#but none of the FUN things i wanted to do

[moons-and-runes]

Writing Goals for 2025!

💖 My main goal for the year is to finish writing at least one entire fic (but hopefully I’ll complete multiple)

🛳️ I have a oneshot idea for Benverly which isn’t really a new ship for me but I’ve never written for them before. I think I’d also like to write some Marylene stuff :)

🤔 Following on from the last Q, Ben, Bev, Mary and Marlene are characters I’ve not written before

🥸 Yes, I have a friend who I share most of my ideas with who also has some fic ideas in the works 👀

🥵…We’ll see. And if I do there’s no guarantee I would even post it lol

👻 Technically any genre is a new genre for me as I’ve never finished writing a whole story

🦄 I have a dual POV wip at the moment of Sirius and Regulus Black :)))

🐌 To finish a oneshot (3k - 10k words)

🦖 No I’m really only interested in writing IT and HP fics

🍄 None that I can think of atm but that might change as I read and watch more perhaps I’ll join a new fandom this year

🌈 Oh I’ve already done a ton of research for multiple of my wips. Things like looking up lunar cycle calendars, weather forecasts and major events from previous years as well as finding every character’s canon birthday and creating ones for those who don’t have one 😭 I have put in WORK!

✨ I’m pretty good at English overall but I guess spelling and grammar are my strongest areas. Although I do find myself wanting to look up certain grammar at times to double check I’m using it correctly.

🥕 Timeline? Plot line? Not sure how to word it but just managing to get all my separate ideas and scenes to flow into each other and form the bigger picture/full story

🫘 Currently in the works I have a reddie fic from Eddie’s pov (but with a twist), the dual pov Black brothers fic, a wolfstar au inspired by one of my favourite books and an angsty semi canon-compliant wolfstar fic

🥳 Allow myself to start making art based on my stories. I think if I do that before the fics are finished I’ll just end up settling for the art and never finishing the writing. However when I finish a fic I can then make art and also use it as the fic cover!

🎃 Yes I think it would be fun to do some holiday oneshots, especially Halloween and Christmas (or for character’s birthdays if I remember)

🐾 I’d like to say yes but I struggle so much with deadlines I just don’t see myself finishing within the short time frame 😔

✍️ Hits and Comments! I’d like to know that people are actually reading and enjoying the stuff I put out especially when I’ve worked so hard on it :) I would say kudos but since you’re only allowed to leave 1 per fic the numbers wouldn’t be as accurate to how many people are actually reading/enjoying it

👾 Not finishing wips 💀 I have so many ideas for fics and random notes in multiple places and I just need to focus on finishing the few I’ve started

🤖 Not really. I write wherever and whenever the inspiration hits. Whether at my computer, on my phone or on my iPad. And usually I’ll be in bed or at my desk

🦷 Any of the super angsty scenes I have planned (none of them are fully formed ideas yet though so I can’t share snippets or say what in particular I’m scared to write)

💥 Heheheh yes but I can’t really say bc I don’t want to spoil my current favourite wip. It involves brotherly bickering though :)

🍕 Posting schedules aren’t important to me. I’ll post whenever I want to post. However I think I’d like to have the full fic finished before I start posting it. That way there’s no chance I’ll abandon it as a wip with a cliffhanger

🛏️ Again, pretty much any trope is a new trope as someone who has never finished a piece of writing 😭

🪩 Not sure if this is specifically a writing habit but I’m super proud of the ideas I come up with and I’d like to continue developing my existing ideas as well as creating new ones

🎉 I will acknowledge that this is the first year I have set any writing goals and that I can always finish off my goals next year, just like how I’ve only completed 1/4 of my Goodreads goals so far

💌 Yes!! Although I think I need to build more of a following on here/ao3 before that happens :)

PHEW! that was a lot!! But also very fun!! I can’t wait to get more into my writing this year and hopefully 🤞 finish one (or more) of my wips

tagging: @staliamazing

Writer Goal Ask List for a New Year 🎉

These writer asks are always so fun to both ask and answer. Fanfic or original fiction writers, reblog away! These are asks based in new goals for a new year.

💖 What is your primary writing goal for this year?

🛳 Are there any new ships you want to write for? (Platonic, romantic, or anything in between.)

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about?

🥸 Does anyone in IRL know you write fanfic or original fiction? If not, do you plan on telling anyone this year?

🥵 Any plans to write steamy or spicy content this year?

👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write?

🦄 Is there a new POV you'd like to try writing?

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

🦖 Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you'd like to return to?

🍄 Are there any fandoms you've never written for but want to try?

🌈 What research do you plan on doing for your writing?

✨What's one area of your writing that you think needs the least amount of improvement?

🥕 What's one area of your writing that you think needs the most amount of improvement?

🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year?

🥳 How are you going to celebrate when you achieve one of your writing goals?

🎃 Do you plan on writing any seasonal fics?

🐾 Do you plan on writing for any fests or competitions?

✍️ Which stat matters most to you (if at all!): subscriptions, kudos/favorites, comments, bookmarks, word count, or hits?

👾 Do you have any "bad" writing habits you want to break?

🤖 Are you looking to change your current writing setup? (Or establish one, if you don't have one?)

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

🍕Will you be making any changes to your posting schedule (if you have one)? (Or do you want to establish a posting schedule?)

🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?

🪩 Do you have any "good" writing habits you want to cultivate?

🎉 How are you going to be kind to yourself if you don't meet your goals?

💌 Are you willing to take requests or prompts for writing?

[st4rpiece]

tall girl epidemic

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, kidd x reader summary: op men who love tall women CW: jealousy (kidd) but aside from that just fluff [specified reader physical traits include: height (obviously), body scars, and multiple different body types (chubby/curvy, buff/muscular, skinny/slim)]

─────────────⋆ฺ｡*:･

Monkey D. Luffy

Since meeting you, Luffy hasn’t stopped lifting you up into the air for the silliest reasons. He wants a snack? Suddenly, you’re in his arms, tagging along to the kitchen. Running from an enemy? There you are again, scooped up like you’re part of the escape plan. It didn’t matter the situation—if Luffy decided it was easier to carry you, he’d do it without hesitation.

At first, it caught you off guard. After all, you weren’t exactly small. At 6’5, you were taller than most, and your solid frame was a testament to years of training and battle. You weren’t delicate or light, and yet Luffy carried you like it was nothing, grinning all the while like hauling you around was as easy as lifting a feather.

“Doesn’t this ever get tiring?” you’d finally asked one day, your tone half-amused, half-exasperated as he picked you up for the third time in a single afternoon.

He tilted his head, flashing you that carefree smile of his. “Nope!”

“Seriously?”

He giggled, spinning you once before setting you down gently. “I just like having you in my arms! You’re fun to carry.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not a toy, Lu. If anything, I should be carrying you. It makes way more sense.”

“I don’t think so, plus you’ve carried me before,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if the occasional over the shoulder ride after a battle evened the score. “So it’s only fair I get to carry you too!”

You didn’t have much of a rebuttal for that, so you just sighed and let him have his way. Truthfully, you didn’t mind all that much.

Being with Luffy was exciting—not just because of the adventures or the friends you’d made thanks to him, but because of how he made you feel. You’d never been the type to consider yourself “delicate” or “soft.” You were a warrior in your country, someone who had earned her place through grit and strength. Your body bore the scars of countless battles, and your imposing stature had always been enough to make others think twice before approaching you.

But none of that seemed to matter to Luffy.

He never treated you like you were intimidating or unreachable. Instead, he saw you in a way no one else ever had—as someone strong, yes, but also someone worth cherishing. He didn’t limit your freedom or strength, didn’t try to box you into a role that didn’t fit. But somehow, even with all that respect, he still managed to make you feel like a fragile princess in the best way.

And it was never in a way that undermined who you were. He’d wrap you up in his stretchy arms when you were upset, pulling you into one of his over-the-top hugs, but he’d laugh and tell you how cool you looked when you took down an opponent twice your size, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

“That was amazing!“ he’d say with the same enthusiasm he gave to talking about meat or a beetle, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It was strange at first, this mix of being treated like someone soft and someone indestructible, but Luffy had a way of balancing both without ever making it feel forced.

It was early in your relationship, when both developed the habit of sitting on the deck and watching the stars after dinner. You would fiddled with the brim of his hat that rested on your head as he leaned back, resting his arms behind his head.

“You know,” you started, your voice softer than usual, “I don’t really get you sometimes.”

“Huh? What’s there to get?” he asked, turning to look at you with wide, curious eyes.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “Just… the way you treat me, I guess.”

“What about it?”

“It’s just different from what i’m use to,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to the deck. “Most people either treat me like I’m too strong to need anyone or that I’m not…feminine enough to deserve proper treatment.”

Luffy frowned at that, sitting up and tilting his head. “That’s dumb.”

You looked at him, a little startled by the bluntness of his response. “What?”

“They’re dumb,” he said simply, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re strong and you’re pretty. Why would it be one or the other?”

His words were so straightforward, so unfiltered, that you didn’t know how to respond. You could feel your cheeks warming, and you quickly looked away, pretending to adjust his hat.

“Anyway,” he continued, leaning back on his hands again, “I like you and the crew likes you just the way you are. And if other people can’t see how awesome you are, that’s their problem, not yours.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his words settle over you. Then, with a small smile tugging at your lips, you reached over and gently tugged on his cheek.

“Cheesy,” you muttered, but there was no heat behind your words.

“And you love it,” he teased, grinning as he leaned into your hand.

You couldn’t argue with that. And honestly, you didn’t want to. He was right, you did love it.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro claimed he didn’t have a type. He wasn’t exactly experienced in the dating world, and honestly? He’d settle for the first person who asked him out. His standards when it comes to dating were low, maybe embarrassingly so. He figured relationships didn’t need to be complicated, and it doesn’t help that romance isn’t something he gives much thought to.

His ideologies for sure had Nami rolling her eyes so hard she nearly sprained something while she “convinced” him to go on this blind date. (Probably just mentioned sake).

“Don’t embarrass me,” she’d said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Just…try to be normal.”

Zoro wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by that, but here he was, sitting in a dimly lit restaurant and already regretting the whole thing. He didn’t have much in the way of expectations, and if he was being honest, he’d already been planning how to politely bail when the evening inevitably turned awkward.

What he wasn’t expecting, though, was you.

When the doors opened and you walked in, Zoro thought for a second that maybe Nami had set him up as some kind of joke. You were…tall. Really tall. At least 6’7, towering over everyone else in the room like it was nothing. But it wasn’t just your height that threw him for a loop. No, it was the way you carried yourself—strong and confident, with curves that made his mouth feel suddenly dry.

And then you smiled.

It was the kind of smile that could light up a whole damn room, warm and genuine, and Zoro had no idea what to do with himself. He froze in place, staring at you like an idiot as you approached the table.

But just as you reached it, you bumped into the corner, your face twisting into an embarrassed grimace as you muttered a barely audible, “Sorry.”

You adjusted your stance quickly, smoothing out your clothes before meeting his gaze. The confident smile returned, but there was a hint of nervousness in your eyes now as you introduced yourself, “…and you must be Zoro.”

Zoro blinked, realizing he’d been sitting there silently like a moron. He cleared his throat, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. “Uh…yeah. That’s me.”

For the first time in a long time, Zoro didn’t know what to say. You were stunning—intimidatingly so, but not in a bad way. More like in a way that made him feel completely unprepared.

“I, uh…didn’t expect…” He trailed off, realizing how stupid that sounded. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to find the words. “I mean…it’s nice to meet you.”

You smiled again, a little softer this time, and sat down across from him. The chair groaned slightly under your weight, but you barely seemed to notice. Zoro, however, was hyper-aware of everything about you—the way your hair framed your face, the faint scent of your perfume, and the way you fiddled with your hands nervously even though you looked like someone who could crush him without breaking a sweat.

“So,” you said, your voice breaking the silence, “should we just dive into the awkward small talk, or do you want to skip straight to figuring out if we’re compatible?”

Zoro smirked, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Depends. What kind of small talk are we talking about?”

“Well, for starters,” you said, leaning in just a little, “what’s the deal with Nami setting us up? She made it seep like you were being held at gun point when you agreed to come.”

Zoro let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s ‘cause I was. Basically told me that I needed to stop being a ‘grumpy loner’ and put myself out there.”

“Well, are you a grumpy loner?” you teased, arching a brow.

“Depends on the day,” he replied, his lips twitching into a rare smile.

The conversation began to flow more naturally after that, and Zoro found himself surprisingly at ease in your presence. You were funny, sharp-witted, and refreshingly down-to-earth. And despite your intimidating height and striking appearance, you had this endearing mix of confidence and awkwardness that made Zoro’s chest feel…weird. Warm, maybe.

He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but one thing was certain: Nami might’ve been onto something.

And as the night went on, Zoro started thinking that maybe—just maybe—he had a type after all.

God Usopp

Usopp’s ability to turn his lies into facts never failed to amaze his crew, no matter how many times it happened. Whether it was fooling enemies into thinking he had an army at his back or convincing others he’d singlehandedly taken down giants, his bluffs always seemed to find a way to come true.

But this time, it felt like he might’ve gone too far.

The night had started innocently enough. They’d walked into the bustling bar, ready to unwind after a long day, and Usopp had quickly taken center stage, boasting to anyone who’d listen about his supposed luck with women. According to him, he had a magnetic charm—women practically threw themselves at him. He spun story after story, weaving tales of effortless flirtations and grand romances, all while nursing his drink like it was the elixir fueling his confidence.

The crew had been amused, as usual, letting him have his moment. That was, until he pushed his luck.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Usopp declared suddenly, slamming his glass down on the table for dramatic effect. “The next woman who walks through that door, I’ll ask her out!”

“Yeah, right,” Zoro snorted, leaning back in his chair with a skeptical smirk.

“Bet you a thousand berries you’ll chicken out,” Sanji added, lighting a cigarette.

Even Luffy was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying the show.

Fueled by their jeers and the buzz of alcohol in his system, Usopp puffed out his chest, confidence radiating off him. “Wait and see! I’ll show you virgin’s how it’s done!”

And then the door swung open.

You walked in, tall, curvy, and striking, with an air of quiet shyness that somehow made you even more intriguing. Your height was intimidating, sure—enough to make most people hesitate—but that didn’t stop the crew’s attention from snapping right to you.

Unfortunately for Usopp, his confidence evaporated the second he saw you. His jaw dropped slightly, and he sank lower in his seat, as if trying to disappear.

Too hot. Way too hot, he thought, panic rising in his chest.

There was absolutely no way he could approach you. But before he could retract his bold declaration, Luffy—ever the instigator—practically shouted across the bar:

“Hey Usopp, a girl just walked in!”

The room went quiet for a beat, every head turning toward your direction—including yours.

Usopp froze, his face turning beet red as the crew burst into laughter at his horrified expression. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

“Don’t back out now, lover boy,” Zoro teased, raising his glass.

Sanji smirked, blowing out a puff of smoke. “Yeah, come on lover boy. Show us “virgin’s” how it’s done.”

It took a solid five minutes of relentless goading, prodding, and Sanji’s smug remarks before Usopp finally caved. His legs felt like lead as he dragged himself across the bar toward your table, his nerves threatening to take him out entirely.

You, meanwhile, had been watching the whole ordeal out of the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh. It was obvious the group of men was teasing him, but when you saw him hesitantly approach your table, his cheeks flushed and his hands fidgeting at his sides, something about his awkward determination made your heart skip.

“H-Hey,” he stammered, stopping in front of you. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact as he forced himself to speak. “I, uh… I couldn’t help but notice you walked in, and, um…I just wanted to say you look—uh—really nice. Really, uh…really pretty, actually.”

Your face warmed at his words, and you offered him a small smile. “Thank you,” you said softly, finding his obvious nerves oddly endearing.

He exhaled sharply, relieved that you hadn’t immediately brushed him off. “So, uh…I was wondering if I could maybe, um, buy you a drink? If you don’t mind, that is.”

He was a stuttering mess, barely able to hold your gaze for more than a second, but his earnestness was hard to ignore.

You chuckled nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sure. I’d like that.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night talking, your initial shyness melting away as you realized just how much you had in common. Usopp, despite his earlier bluster, turned out to be easy to talk to once he got past his nerves. He told you about his adventures (embellished, of course), and you shared a few stories of your own, laughing at his exaggerated reactions.

By the end of the night, the two of you were sitting closer, your heads nearly touching as you exchanged quiet words amidst the noisy bar. When he finally asked for your number—his voice cracking slightly as he did—it was an easy “yes.”

When he returned to his crew, they were in shock.

“Huh, you actually got her number?” Zoro asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sanji looked like he was about to faint. “How?!”

Even Luffy was impressed, clapping Usopp on the back with a wide grin.

Usopp grinned cheekily, slipping his hands into his pockets as he tried to play it cool. “What can I say? The ladies can’t resist the great Captain Usopp.”

But the blush on his face—and the way his gaze kept darting back to you—told a different story.

Eustass Kidd

Kidd wasn’t a small guy—not in height, not in build, and definitely not in personality. He was used to being the one towering over others, the one commanding attention in every room. But then there was you.

You weren’t exactly small, either. You were tall enough to meet his gaze, tall enough that he had to actually look up when you wore certain shoes. And somehow, that fact alone drove him up the wall. It wasn’t just your height, either—it was the way you used it. The way you leaned down just enough to get in his face during arguments, a teasing smirk on your lips that made his blood boil. It wasn’t clear whether he wanted to bite you or kiss you senseless. Hell, maybe both.

Your slim, graceful frame only added to your air of superiority, and the way you carried yourself—poised and unapologetically confident, like some untouchable princess—clashed with Kidd’s brash, rough-edged demeanor in ways that sent sparks flying.

The first time you joined his crew, he’d made it very clear he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “This ship has no room for some tall, prissy princess who can’t even fight properly,” he’d snarled, his tone biting.

Yet, every time the idea of you leaving came up, he was the first to shoot it down. He always had some half-baked excuse—“We need the extra hands,” or “No one else can handle that task but her.” But the truth was glaringly obvious to everyone but him: he didn’t want you to go.

You, of course, loved to needle him about it. Whether it was teasing him about his temper, calling him “short” just to see him fume, or subtly challenging his authority just to watch him rise to the bait, you knew exactly how to get under his skin.

And right now, you were doing it without even trying.

The crew was docked on an island for the day, giving everyone a much-needed break. While Kidd had been supervising repairs to the ship, you’d wandered off, only to bump into an old friend. Kidd hadn’t paid much attention until he turned around and saw you hugging some guy—a scrawny, soft-looking guy at that.

Normally, you brushed off men as if they were flies, always quick with a sharp word or a cold glare if they got too close. But now? You were smiling. Laughing. Letting this guy get all touchy, and even worse, you didn’t seem to mind. You’d even waved off the crew, saying you’d catch up later as you wandered off with him.

It was the first time Kidd had seen you without that infuriating sass, without the sarcasm or biting wit. And he hated it. He hated the way his chest tightened when you walked away. Hated the fact that the sight of you being soft with someone else was enough to ruin his mood for the rest of the day.

When you finally came back to the ship, he was waiting for you at the gangplank, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Is that seriously your type?” he asked as soon as you got close.

You froze, your brows furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“Thought you would’ve had better taste,” Kidd said, scoffing. “That guy was so scrawny, it’s pathetic. There’s no way he could handle someone like you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Oh? And who said I wanted to be handled?”

His eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re a brat,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Someone’s gotta handle that.”

You raised a brow, stepping closer, your tone dripping with mockery. “And who exactly do you think could “handle” me? You?”

Kidd let out a sharp laugh, one that had the crew glancing over in curiosity. “Damn right,” he growled, and before you could say another word, he grabbed you.

With an ease that startled you, he hoisted you over his shoulder, ignoring your yelp of surprise and the way you immediately started struggling.

“Kidd! Put me down, you overgrown idiot!” you shouted, kicking your legs as he started walking.

“Try asking nicely, princess,” he said with a cocky grin, as he continued to carry you below deck as if you weighed nothing.

By the time he dumped you onto the mattress in his quarters, you were fuming, your face hot with embarrassment. You scrambled to sit up, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but he cut you off, stepping closer and leaning down just enough to cage you in.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice though quieter now, was still rough around the edges. “Always in my face, always mouthing off, always making me question whether I hate you or…” He trailed off, his gaze flickering down to your lips before snapping back up to meet your eyes.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. “Or what?” you whispered, your voice unsteady.

“Or want you,” he finished bluntly. “And I’m sick of pretending it’s not the second one.”

Your heart skipped at his confession, and for once, you were at a loss for words. You’d always assumed he couldn’t stand you—that all the bickering and banter was just part of his general dislike for you. But now, with the way he was looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically soft, you weren’t so sure anymore.

Before you could gather your thoughts, he straightened slightly, his voice dropping. “Can I kiss you?”

The question caught you completely off guard, your cheeks heating as you stared up at him. Kidd never asked for anything—he just took. But now, with his sharp edges momentarily softened, waiting for your answer, it made your chest ache in a way you didn’t expect.

Swallowing your nerves, you nodded slowly. “Yeah,” you murmured.

The moment your words left your mouth, Kidd closed the gap, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle. It wasn’t rushed or forceful—it was steady, deliberate, and filled with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a rare, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re still a brat,” he muttered, his voice laced with affection.

“And you’re still an overgrown idiot,” you shot back, though there was no venom in your words.

He chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw. “And yet you let this overgrown idiot kiss you.”

You didn’t have a clever comeback for that—not this time. Instead, you leaned up, pulling him back into another kiss, letting it speak for you instead.

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One Piece Masterlist

not proofread!!

i imagined reader to be over 6’ for those whose heights aren’t explicitly stated. also i am not tall so i hopefully i did the tall girlies justice!!

[willing to do a part two of this with any other op men or women :p]

also happy new year!!

[taylor-titmouse]

"Are there any characters as evil as Atra Menta? And does she have any rivals or enemies?"

[i posted a long-ass answer to this question on retrospring so i want it here too]

powerscaling the evil of my characters. lucky for you i have thought about it.

first of all we have to determine what we mean by evil. there's what i'd consider real/dark evil, as in evil that's too real--racism, -phobias, rape, murder, capitalism. the kind of stuff that, unless you're Into It Into It, you wouldn't want in your porn. then there's cartoon evil, pomp and schemes, devices, costumes, tricks and banter and sexy predicaments. the fun stuff.

realizing slightly too late i could have just pointed at the difference between a villain and a supervillain bit from megamind. anyway.

i would categorize atra menta as a mature cartoon villain. cause she's obviously committing what are unambiguously sex crimes, but we're all having fun playing in the space. she's doing what she wants when she wants and how she wants it, and she has the power to back herself up. the limits of what she would and won't do are unknown on the basis we would simply never see her do any especially horrible stuff, and any work she appears in won't treat her acts as so unbearably horrible. like maleficent puts a curse a baby to die an early death for nothing, and that's awful when you put it that way, but we don't really think of it like that, because we know, tonally, it'll be fine. it's that sort of thing.

so she's The Most Evil because that's her shtick but i wouldn't consider her the Darkest. like i would think of osmund as a darker character because his goals are more specific and personal and therefore more likely to be real to an individual reader. "go my minions! burn down a village!" is, in an objective sense, a worse crime than grooming one man. but one of those is less likely to be upsetting on a personal level.

as for rivals/enemies, none that i've settled on as like, a distinct part of her narrative. osmund is closest to her in power and could hold his own in a conflict, but i think she could still defeat him on the basis that she needn't hold back for the sake of appearances the way he does. romick fantasizes about fucking her and likes to think he could win but she'd beat him easily. she'd actually be more threatened by the doll, with her control over the tower, than she would be by romick. and cadogan and jerund have zero interest in her or her business. not my circus not my monkeys. i'm good over here.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Every time someone gets angry that neurodivergent people headcanon Tommy as autistic (you don't want to know what people called me on twt for making autistic Tommy posts ...), they bring out all the stereotypical aspects of autism which Tommy apparently doesn't show in their opinion and say: "he's just rude / an asshole". That's so ironic. Because that's the thing: Autism is a spectrum and just because you experience some aspects of one part of this broad spectrum doesn't mean that YOU get to say what autism has to look like for every other autistic person. YOU don't define autism for me. A lot of people say Eddie is autistic. I don't see it. But I would never start to judge people who headcanon him as autistic. For me, personally, Tommy has more autistic traits I relate to. Because do you know who was also called "rude"? Me. I was also called "indifferent", "selfish", "egocentric", "weird", etc. because of my autistic traits. And come on. No one, really no one, has ever tried to excuse Tommy's past behaviour by headcanoning him as autistic. We just relate to some aspects of his personality. And we are allowed to do so. Neurodivergent people should never judge or shame fellow neurodivergent people for relating to a fictional character or headcanoning them as autistic. What harm does it do? (That's right. None. All of this is just part of your stupid ship war.) Autism is a spectrum. If you know an autistic person, you know ONE autistic person. So if they relate to someone you don't, there's going to be a reason for that ... Be mindful and manage to see past your hatred for the fictional character. These are some traits that can be part of the autism spectrum which I experience and recognise in Tommy: - fidgeting and stimming (Tommy fidgets a lot. He pushes his hands into the pockets of his jacket, wrings his hands, taps his fingers, crosses his arms over his chest, fidgets with his cap during the medal ceremony, fidgets with the tiny pumpkin, etc.) - flat expression, monotonous voice, dry humour - taking things literally (the deleted cake scene) - seems to have comfort food / drink / clothes

And for me, autistic Tommy is a perfect fit to adhd Buck. I see them as an audhd dynamic. Which, for me, is extra fun, because I'm autistic and my husband has adhd. :D

[saltyowlets]

I am the type to analyze and comb details in games, read on the dialogue, and make inferences on what characters are like as i play a game. I did that constantly playing Inquisition and that helped playing such a huge game seem so fun. There are multitude of themes in that game that are so fun to gnaw at and your game play can differ depending on your race, if you let yourself immerse in it.

Then there's Veilguard. See, I initially did the same thing. Comb every area, read into the dialogue and quests, hoping that I would get something substantial to bite like I did with DAI. By the end of Act 1, I realized that there was nothing to chew on.

Everything became predictable, the characters acted as I imagined. There was no nuance to any of the factions. It made me so tired to play through the game and not be rewarded for my diligence. I even nearly 100% the game because there wasn't anything rewarding so I had to find some other way to do so. I didn't even enjoy it, it felt so slow and inefficient. I enjoyed DAI's quests as it doesn't force you to complete them but let's you explore and discover at your pace. I didn't 100% it, not because I didn't want to but because I wanted to discover more when I replay it.

I do not feel like replaying DAV. I can try to convince myself to play a different Rook for the romances and maybe explore different factions, but I know my gameplay will be the same, the outcome won't be any different. None of my choices make a big impact in the game, besides the Minrathus vs Treviso one.

It's crazy cause a common critique of DAI is that choices don't matter but that's not entirely true. Your choices in DAI affect the world state. Who would choose in the War Table missions impact other missions and rewards. Your trials can change public sentiment. The order of the missions you can complete make minor differences in how NPCs interact with you.

DAV just doesn't not have that. I do not feel like what I do matters in the short or long run. I felt like I was pushing myself to finish the game. Im also big on character and game narrative, it was the biggest motivator to finish the game. But in the end, I did not feel unsatisfactory.

Battle mechanics were fun and the fights were straightforward but that's not enough for me in a game. I can deal with bad gameplay as long as I am given a story I can invest in, a world I can explore.

And sadly, that is far from what DAV is.

it’s interesting how many people, including myself, share the similar sentiment that veilguard is actually incredibly fun while playing, and its the process of thinking back on it after finishing where it begins to fall apart and the holes begin to show… i think it’s especially interesting because at least for me, the other dragon age games are the opposite. i hate playing inquisition, but when i sit and look back on it i cannot help but admire how brilliant the writing and characters are. dragon age 2 can be a slog by act 3 but when i finish and think back on how the story unfolded i know in my heart that it was a masterpiece. i got bored or frustrated while playing them but these games stuck around in my head after finishing them for the first time not just for days or weeks but for years.

veilguard lacks this. i had A LOT of fun playing the game. i love the gameplay loop. i like the puzzles. i love the environments. it was probably the easiest dragon age game to blast through 60 hours of. but then the credits roll and instead of analyzing character arcs and deconstructing banter, im stuck on all the plot holes and missed opportunities.

veilguard gets worse the longer i let it marinate in my brain, rather than better. each rotisserie turn of the story over in my head reveals more and more nothingness - or just clumsy attempts at misdirection so i don’t think too hard about what’s missing. the dragon age games have always been an olympic sized swimming pool that you can dive headfirst into if you want, and you will be rewarded with a corresponding amount of depth. veilguard is one of those kiddie pools at a water park with slides and fountains and a water-based jungle gym on top - it’s fun on the surface and packed with things to do. but if you attempt to dive? you’ll crack your head open.

[emyyxy]

eyebrow piercing

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

billy and stu catch reader giving themself an eyebrow piercing (kinda graphic kinda long)

you sat on the bathroom counter, staring at yourself in the mirror, holding a safety pin in your trembling fingers.

“this is such a bad idea.” you mutter to yourself, still staring at your reflection. you take a deep breath and bring the safety pin up to your eyebrow.

the front door had been slammed shut, bringing you back to your reality. you could hear faint arguing in between billy and stu on which cheesy horror movie to watch. you regained your focus and brought the pin to your eyebrow.

bringing the pin closer to your skin, the pointy end grazing your skin at the bottom of your eyebrow. your breath hitched at the sensation and you gritted your teeth.

“alright..one, two-” you whispered.

“what the hell are you doing?”

billy’s voice cut through the cold air. you jumped at his voice and dropped the pin onto the counter, whipping your head to the door. you see billy standing in the doorframe with a wide eyed and irritated expression. behind him was stu, leaning on the doorframe with a stupid grin on his face.

“no fucking way!” stu cackled while pushing through billy to get a closer look. “are you seriously trying to do your own eyebrow piercing right now?!”

“it’s none of your business!” you shot him down. cheeks were getting flushed with embarrassment as you jumped off the counter.

“i have a better question- why are you trying to mutilate your face?!” billy crossed his arms.

“i’m not mutilating anything! its just an eyebrow piercing. people do this all the time!” you huffed while grabbing the lose safety pin off the counter.

“yeah” stu interjected. “with the proper and sterile equipment. where did you even find that safety pin?!” he snorts.

you shoot him a glare.

billy snatches the safety pin out of your hands before you can even protest. “a safety pin? seriously?” he inspected it in his hand. “you couldn’t wait and just go to a professional?”

“why go to a professional when i can do the same thing at home! for free!” you huffed while trying to take the pin out of his hand. billy raises an eyebrow and his hand, the pin now out of your reach. “you’re willing to risk an infection just to save money?”

“y/n, why don’t we do it? we’re great with sharp objects.” stu slings an arm around your neck.

“absolutely not.” billy interjects. “you are not touching their face.”

“ugh you’re no fun.” stu throws his hands up in protest.

you steal back the pin while billy got distracted. “look, i don’t need your help. i was doing fine before you guys rudely barged in.” you roll your eyes.

“fine? really?” billy’s brow arched. “doing fine? with a rusty safety pin in a dirty bathroom? you call that fine?” his voice was full of sarcasm.

“the bathroom is not that dirty!”

“do we not see the toothpaste stains in the sink?” stu points to the dirty sink. “sure. spotless.”

you groaned at the endless bickering. yeah, this wasn’t your brightest idea but it wasn’t completely horrible.

billy pins the bridge of his nose. “how about this, you wait a week and we’ll take you to get it done properly. our treat.”

“seriously?” your eyes narrowed down on billy. “what’s the catch?”

“no catch. you just have to wait a week. plus, we don’t want to hear you complain about a botched piercing.”

“besides” stu slings an arm around your neck again. “it’ll be fun to watch someone else stab you.” he laughs and sticks a tongue out. you smacked his arm off.

“fine.” you put your hands up, accepting defeat. “but if you guys fall through, i’m doing it myself.”

“deal. let’s just get out of this bathroom before we catch a disease.” billy drags you out of the bathroom, stu following your lead. you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

later in the week…

the week was dragging on and days were blending into one. you were growing insanely restless. billy and stu were taking forever planning and it was just such a drag. you had to take it into your own hands.

by the fifth day you were over playing the waiting game.

which is how you found yourself in the bathroom again. but this time you came prepared. you properly cleaned the safety pin, cleaned the bathroom, and watched a couple of youtube videos.

you pressed the pin into your skin, feeling the stinging sensation of it breaking through the surface. your breathing quickened and your vision became slightly blurred from the rush of adrenaline, but it’s too late to stop now. slowly pushing the pin through while biting your lip the whole time, to keep from making any noise.

it finally went through and you sharply exhaled, while staring at your reflection. it wasn’t perfect but it also wasn’t terrible either. you put the small silver hoop through and you couldn’t help but grin at what a good job you’ve done.

“not bad.” you whisper to yourself while examining your reflection.

“not bad?” billy’s voice pierced through your soul more than the safety pin did. it made you jump violently, almost knocking the cleaning solution over.

whipping your head to the door, seeing billy and stu standing in the doorway. billy was pissed and stu had a wide eyed expression on his face. why am i getting deja vu right now…

“you did it!” stu started bouncing around the room, chanting. “oh my god- you’re actually insane! i love it!”

“shut up, stu.” billy huffs, stepping forward, he grabs your chin. he harshly tilts your face at any and all angles, examining the “damage” you’ve done to your face. “are you trying to get an infection?”

“it’s fine.” you pulled his hand away from you. “i cleaned it. it doesn’t even hurt that much.”

his jaw tightened and so did his gaze on you. “that’s not the point, baby. we told you to wait and you didn’t!”

“yeah, but-”

“but nothing.” he cut you off. “you’re lucky you didn’t mess it up. do you even know what your doing?” his voice was low and cold.

“who cares?” stu was grinning like a coked up maniac, leaning in the doorway. “billy, give them some credit! they pulled it off, i think. it’s badass, actually. kind of turning me on…” stu raises his eyebrows up and down, giving you a look.

“yeah, if putting yourself at risk of serious danger was badass.” billy rolled his eyes. “and don’t even think of going anywhere, you’re staying put and let me clean this up.”

as much as you protested that you cleaned it, billy did not believe you one bit. he cleaned the piercing for you while stu sat on the edge of the bathtub watching as if it was the most entertaining thing all week. while he was doing so, he lectured you on the importance of cleaning your piercings and as to why you should never do something like this again.

“thank you billy.” you muttered, looking away.

“yeah, yeah.” he tosses the last cotton ball into the trash.

while hopping off the counter, you give both of your boys a kiss on the cheek.

[flooffybits]

Tell Me

Idol: Hirai Momo (Twice)

Momo has conflicting feelings that she doesn't quite understand. So someone has to knock some sense into her.

Word count: 3.2k

Warning: mean Momo, reader gets sick, Jihyo and Jeongyeon are angry

☕buy me a coffee☕

Things within the group have been a little more comforting as of late. Even with your late addition to the team, you all seemed to gradually get along with all of the girls, especially with having to deal with constant comebacks and late night practices.

Except for one person.

"Unnie, do you want to come with Mina and I?" You ask with a little bit of a hopeful look in your eyes, but the older woman didn't even bother looking your way as she shook her head, eyes trained on the device in her hands. "I'm busy, have fun though." She answered curtly and your shoulders deflated a little before you nodded in defeat, exiting the room to meet with the other Japanese woman.

Once she heard the door close, Momo finally lifted her gaze and let out a sigh, glancing at the door you just exited from. A frown crept up her lips and she had to roll her eyes before grabbing her bag and then waiting a few more minutes just so she was sure you still wouldn't be around.

Once she hears the sound of the front door closing, Momo takes that as a sign and finally moves from her spot, shoving her phone inside her pocket as she navigates herself through the kitchen.

"So, you're busy with… what, exactly?"

The short haired woman jumps in surprise, squeaking before she whirls around to look at the source of the voice that had nearly given her a heart attack before shouting. "Yah! Don't do that!" She protests while Jihyo gives her an odd look.

"You're ignoring Y/n." The leader doesn't beat around the bush when she speaks and Momo has a bit of a hard time collecting herself from the sudden accusation that wasn't entirely false.

In all honesty she doesn't have a clue on how to get out of this, and unfortunately for her Jihyo already senses it before she can even manage a sound.

"I thought we talked about this before, Momo?" Said member only sighs while leaning against the kitchen counter. "I know! But every time I see her I just… I don't know! I feel so unsettled whenever she's around and I can't help but distance myself from her." She explains, exasperation laced in her tone as she ran her fingers through her hair. "And I know that she hasn't done anything but I just can't help but remember how much we went through to get here."

"And Y/n has gone through the same. The only difference is that she was alone while we had each other." Jihyo reminds her for the umpteenth time that Momo doesn't even remember how many times she's heard that from the leader or even any of the other members. They were right no matter how she looked at it.

She could never change how things went. She could never truly blame you for being assigned here either. It wasn't your fault.

You didn't ask to be here.

Momo could always remember the hesitation you had displayed when you were first presented to the group. There was shame in your features that none of the girls could blame you for and she's honestly guilty for being so hostile since the beginning.

You weren't a bad person.

In essence, you were one of the nicer people that she's met in this industry and she would consider themselves lucky to have such nice and caring members.

That was why the guilt never went away because she wasn't nice.

Not to you at least.

"I know." Is all she can say and Jihyo doesn't quite understand what she's thinking because her expression right now is unreadable. "Sorry but I… think I need some air."

Jihyo doesn't even stop her when she exits the dorm nor does she question where she's headed. At times like these, Momo only had only one other place to head to.

"Momo unnie isn't back yet?" Tzuyu's question earns a few of the members to look over and Nayeon just shakes her head. "She's probably with Heechul oppa again."

It wasn't an abnormal occurrence, the majority of the group, if not all, knew that your senior had a crush on the dancer. But only a few of them knew that it had already exceeded that level of admiration between them. It just wasn't their secret to tell.

"They've been going out a lot." Sana comments while she fiddles with her phone. "Do you think they're actually dating now?" She can't help but ask and Chaeyoung raises a brow. "Aren't we prohibited from being in a relationship?" The younger girl can't help but question, sharing your own thoughts because you knew that there was a dating ban when it came to artists.

Jeongyeon snorts while leaning her chin against her arms. "We don't always follow the rules, plus it won't be long before that ban is lifted. I wouldn't be surprised if they're already going out together." Somehow the comment makes you uneasy.

Maybe it's the thought of your member getting into possible trouble with the higher ups. But given how your members aren't too bothered, you try to shrug the feeling off before focusing on the game that was currently on your phone with Dahyun beside you.

You don't even remember how long you've been in the living room. You only know that you refused to leave until Momo had returned home. Even when your roommates were telling you to head to bed, you just made some excuse about being comfortable where you are and wanting to finish the game.

You didn't even know when you fell asleep on the couch.

Nayeon had only sighed and shook her head at you before she grabbed a blanket and draped it over your body, patting your head as she headed for her own room.

Jihyo had noticed you when she went to grab some water, but she had stopped at some point, hiding in the corner when she noticed that Momo had finally arrived and was crouched over your sleeping figure.

Blinking in surprise, the leader quietly watched as the Japanese woman examined your face, her brows pinching together in concern when she saw the way you were sleeping before she muttered something under her breath.

Carefully adjusting your position, she made sure you were comfortable and tucked you in, too tired to carry you to your room before she quietly exited the vicinity so as to avoid being caught.

After that night, Jihyo pays a lot more attention to how Momo acts when she thinks no one else is looking.

Momo cares about your opinion more than she'd care to admit. She always has to look in your direction when she's doing something and it's only when you smile or nod does she feel like she can breathe again.

It makes absolutely no sense if you ask her.

But when you're getting compliments from everyone else, she can't help the frown that settles on her face or the way her chest constricts as though there are a pile of bricks laying there.

So she distances herself so she doesn't have to feel that and it only earns itself a frown from you because you think that the rift between the two of you is nowhere near narrowing. She's still so far away from you and it both confuses and frustrates your leader because she sees that Momo is going one way then another.

She can see the effect it has on you and while she does scold the dancer from time to time, she can't help but bite her tongue when she sees that you've opted to be the one to adjust instead.

Your leader was merely a spectator to the odd relationship you and Momo had, dancing around each other but never meeting due to fear and rejection, while the other with uncertainty. It was a difficult relationship to appreciate, and at some point, one of your roommates soon noticed this push and pull as well when she caught Momo peeking inside your room one day when you had fallen ill and failed to participate in one of the events you had scheduled.

"What's… going on?" Jeongyeon muttered curiously the next day, passing by the dancer who had subtly checked the door of your room when the short haired woman left.

"What do you mean?" The culprit was quick to reply, doing her best to seem casual while Jihyo, once again, watched from the side. "You do know that you can just come in to check on her, right?" It was becoming ridiculous at this point, really. Despite being one of the older members of the group, Jihyo was very close to scolding the dancer for the way she had noticed her acting.

Momo, on the other hand, just looked like a deer in headlights as she blinked owlishly. She isn't sure what to say. “I just wanted to be sure if she's still sick. I don't want to get sick too." That was definitely what she wanted to say.

Jeongyeon’s face scrunched up in displeasure while Jihyo scowled.

“Look, I get that you're not her biggest fan, but don't treat her like she's not a person. If you don't wanna get sick, then don't come near her.” The short haired woman scolded and Momo had to cross her arms, defensive as she retorted. "I was just saying! I didn't mean anything by it.” She tells them and Jihyo just sighs while shaking her head. "Momo, enough. Just go somewhere else."

The comment earns a scoff from the dancer, but the thing that irritates her is how she's being told to stay away from you.

"What? You're kicking me out?” She snapped angrily but Jihyo only shook her head. “I don't care where you go right now as long as it's not anywhere near Y/n."

"This isn't healthy, Momo. I hope you realize that.” Jeongyeon spits out before she turns and enters your room, shutting the door behind her and refusing to give the Japanese woman a chance to respond.

She's had enough and you needed her more at the moment rather than Momo needed to be taught a lesson. Plus Jihyo was there and judging by the look on her face, Jeongyeon could tell that the leader would be more than accepting of the role of scolding their friend.

“You guys need to stop arguing like this." All of a sudden a new voice cut through, beating the leader off before she could utter a single sound. “We're all adults here but you're acting like children." A frown is present on Nayeon's face as she looks at the two. “We're supposed to be the unnies here. But you guys are creating a bad vibe that no one can enjoy.” She sighed out and Momo scoffed. “I'm not doing anything.”

“Oh, cut it with that bullshit. We know that you don't like Y/n but at least be civil!” Nayeon scolded, taking the reign this time whilst Jihyo listened. “How can we be a group when you're acting like one person should be left out? How are you setting an example?” She went off as Momo looked away with a huff though the twinge in her chest tells that Nayeon had hit her mark. “Y/n isn’t some outsider, Momo. She’s here to stay so get that through your head.”

There’s a pregnant pause as the three of them stood in the middle of the room, Momo’s thoughts going a mile a minute as she kept stealing glances at the closed door that separated you and them.

“Why do you hate her so much?”

All eyes are on Jihyo as she stares at the dancer, a tired expression on her face. “I mean, I get that you weren’t happy about her joining outside of Sixteen, but you know just as much as I do that she had to deal with things differently from us.” Momo struggles to come up with an answer.

It was true that she had been upset by the decision. She worked hard and suffered through a reality show, fighting to be where she was now. But couldn’t the same be said for you?

Jihyo was right, you were alone throughout your training process while they had each other. They depended on each other during the survival show but who did you lean on when things were getting too much?

“I don’t hate her.” Is all she ends up saying. And judging by the look on her face, it looked like that was the only answer she was willing to give.

..

The practice room was always a paradox for the Japanese woman.

She could always relax and let the music take her away from all the mess that went on with her life, but the same room always reminded her of all the suffering she’s been through just to attain her dream of being an idol.

The never ending practices, the starvation, the crying - it all seemed to happen a lot in this room.

Even when she found solace in it, it still held the storms that she had gone through and the ones she was currently going through.

“Oh-”

The sound made her pause and Momo quickly spun around to see you standing meekly by the door, a timid look on your face as you looked anywhere but her. “I… didn’t think anyone was here already.” You say awkwardly, hand still on the knob.

“I’ll just-”

As you moved to exit the room, Momo wasn’t sure what tugged at her chest, but she was stepping forward without realizing. “It’s okay. You can stay.”

That made you blink and your eyes snap to her face to see if she was kidding. But this was Momo. She didn’t joke, not with you at least. So when you see that she actually means for you to stay, you slowly step away from the door and head over to one of your usual spots in the room.

All the while, Momo’s eyes follow your every move, contemplating on what she could possibly say.

Even when she’s been an utter bitch towards you, Momo realized that you neve retaliated or treated her with any ill will. It was always the other members that did that for you without you knowing and she knows that she deserves it for how she treats you.

You’ve only been understanding of her situation, greeting her with a smile even when she shrugs you off, offering her things you know she likes, but she would always turn you down just because it was you.

God, she felt horrible.

Why did you have to be so nice to her?

“Y/n.”

The call of your name had you looking up during your stretch and you fidget a little when Momo waves you over.

Were you asleep right now?

Momo was calling for you?

That didn’t seem right.

Nevertheless, you stood and approached the older woman and she internally sighs when she sees the shy look across your face. You were cute, she had to admit.

The thought made her pause.

No, no, no. That was not what she needed right now.

But as you stood awkwardly in front of her, the older woman could see the way your eyes looked up at her, kind and shy, she had to bite her tongue before exhaling loudly and then awkwardly putting a hand on your shoulder.

She frowns when you flinch a little at the contact, but the look you give her is reassuring that it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You were honestly surprised by the softness in her tone, lacking its usual edge whenever she was talking to you, but the look in her eyes manages to make your breath hitch. 

“... I wanted to apologize.”

You keep quiet as she tries to find the right words to say. “I haven’t been fair to you, but I just wanted to let you know that I don’t… I don’t hate you.” She mumbles softly, her hand moving from your shoulder, down to your forearm, until she’s eventually taking your hand in her own, albeit hesitantly, almost as though she were afraid you would pull away.

“I know that I have a lot to make up for, but I hope you know that I’m really sorry.” She sucks in a deep breath. “I was confused and frustrated, and Jihyo was right, I shouldn’t have been taking it all out on you because you didn’t ask for any of this. I was just a bit bitter.”

You raise a brow, the corners of your mouth twitching a little. “A bit?” You can’t help the teasing lilt in your tone and Momo huffs. “Shut up, I’m trying to apologize.” And you do so with a smile on your face this time, and Momo can’t help but find that she likes your smile better.

“You somehow make my skin crawl and I get this weird feeling whenever I see you. But at the same time, I don’t like it when you’re upset or sick.” She remembers Jeongyeon getting mad at her again and she knows she has to apologize to her, too. “I hate not being able to talk to you because there’s so much going on with me that I can’t sort out.”

Your eyes widen a little and you know there’s heat crawling up your cheeks at that point because… god, this sounded like some sort of confession in some way. But you keep your mouth shut because you barely knew Momo enough to assume whether you were right or not.

Especially not when she acted like she didn’t like you.

“Unnie.” You began quietly and she’s squeezing your hand like a lifeline. “Is there… a chance that you were… jealous of the others being able to talk to me when you couldn’t?” You bite your lip when her brows furrow, but she nods either way. “And when Sana unnie or Nayeon unnie are hogging me to themselves?” She huffs at that and rolls her eyes. “It’s annoying, really.” You snort a little in amusement before you finally try one last thing.

“Can I hug you?”

Momo’s brain seemed to short circuit at your request, but when she doesn’t say anything, you’re afraid you may have overstepped.

Just as you were about to pull away from her, she tightens her hold on your hand before tugging you closer, making you tumble into her arms before she’s holding your head close to her chest.

Her warmth wraps around you like a blanket and you could hear the way her heart pounded against her chest even when her fingers ran through your hair.

“If this is how hugging you feels like… you can hug me as much as you want.”

Honestly, that and the way her heart sped up a little more only made the stupid grin on your face widen.

She wasn’t too sure what she was feeling right now. But maybe after a bit more of time, she could finally come to terms with herself and tell you how she really felt.

[cameliawrites]

The kanej ficlet I started writing last night (because the Voices in my Head compelled me to) is the most fun I’ve had writing anything in a long time, so I’m sharing a little snippet (mildly NSFW lol) and asking you to giggle and kick your feet with me for a moment:

That thought brings a smile to the corners of her lips—and it’s as if Kaz has a sixth sense for her amusement, because it’s at this moment that he looks up from the table for the first time and spots her at the corner of the bar, where she migrated after slipping inside the club. He gazes at her with a simmering intensity that pushes the smile from her lips almost as quickly as it appeared, and she can’t help the near-silent oh that escapes from her parted lips as he devours her sight like a man starved.

For a moment, Inej thinks he’s going to sweep his arm against the table and send the deck of cards he’d so neatly shuffled a few seconds ago fluttering over the heads of the clubgoers as wildly as Mister Crimson throwing false coins into a crowd of revelers. For a moment, Inej wants him to. She imagines that rough, dark voice of his demanding that everybody on the floor get out, NOW, sending the patrons scattering. They know that Dirtyhands means business. Of course, Inej wouldn’t leave; she would only float closer, silent as a mouse scurrying up to a housecat poised to pounce, and lift her chin to him in defiance. His answering grin would be sharp as claws. And as soon as the front door swung shut behind the final straggler, in one effortless movement, Kaz would grab his cane by its end and hook the end of the silver crow’s head beak into Inej’s belt loop, tugging her forward, hard, till she’s close enough that he can wrap his forearm around her waist, pulling her into the firm plane of his chest and abdomen—but then he’d be pushing her away, pushing her onto the game table, chips and coins and cards all digging into her back, but no matter, because there’s the heat of him between her thighs as he throws the cane to the floor with a violent clatter, grabs her by the back of the neck, drawing her into a kiss so passionate that it’s almost painful, and—

HOLY FUCKING SAINTS ABOVE, INEJ, GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE BARREL. She forces herself to get a grip over her imagination, because in reality, Kaz is doing none of these things; he’s returned his attention to the game that’s just started at his table. He’s working, instead of going fucking insane.

[ssentimentals]

Omg omg i saw someone wrote about bestie!seokmin asking forcing you to play pepero game with him but I LOST it, so pretty please, beautiful, can you do it😫

ooh i never read anything like this, let me try baby, hopefully it'll be as good as original!

lee seokmin + pepero game

'there must be some science behind it,' seokmin comments as you two prepare the table for dinner party tonight.

'behind what?' you ask, washing fruits. 'can you pass me the fruit bowl, please?'

'behind winning a pepero game.' seokmin comes up to you with a bowl in his hand and points at the tv screen, where two famous actors are being forced to play a pepero game. 'like, there's definitely some tactics for winning.'

you squint at the tv screen, watching as audience screams when eventually both of the actors look like they're about to kiss. seokmin arranges fruits just like he knows you like it - apples and oranges at the bottom with grapes on top. he wonders if you noticed how natural it is for you two to be together, how effortlessly conversation flows; he wonders if you noticed how much he knows about you, how he seems to always gravitate towards you whenever you're around. he stares at the fruit bowl and wants to scream because he does things for you without even thinking them through - like him choosing green grapes because you once mentioned in the passing that you don't like purple ones.

'pepero game doesn't require strategic mindset, seokkie,' you comment, turning to him with a sweet smile. 'it's just for fun anyways.'

seokmin is going to blame what comes out of his mouth next for four months of pining over you. 'let's play it then! i will prove that it's all about strategy!'

you look confused for a second, unsure if he's joking or not, so seokmin presses on, desperate in a way that can be considered embarrassing if he had any shame left. gladly, he has none. 'here, i've got them!' seokmin grabs a pack - a strawberry one, because guess whose favorite flavor that is? correct, yours - and shoves it in your hands. 'it's just for fun, you said. right?'

you blink at him. seokmin being this random and chaotic is not a surprise, so you let it slide, deciding to humor him anyway. it concerns you a little how you are up for whatever seokmin plans, too weak to say no to him, but you quickly erase this thought from your mind in favor of concentrating on the game. it makes your heart race a little, no matter how much you want to deny it; this proximity to seokmin makes you a bit giddy inside. 'ready?' you ask, carefully putting one end of the straw in your mouth.

seokmin swallows, staring up at you. maybe it was a bad idea - how he is supposed to keep his cool when you're this close? but there's no stepping back now, so he nods and lightly bites another end of the straw with his teeth, looking up at you. it's only the beginning but he can literally feel sweat running down his temple, because you are right there, so close, he can just take two big bites and your lips will touch. there's a hope in him, burning low somewhere in his heart that his feelings are not unrequited. that sometime between you two laughing so hard that your tummies hurt and deep conversations in hushed voices that felt too intimate for just friends - he just hopes that somewhere between those times you also fell for him.

'seokkie!' you grumble indignantly, when he takes a huge bite, instantly coming up super close to you. 'ugh.'

without thinking, you aso take a big bite just to piss him off but when your noses almost touch, you halt in surprise. you try to gauge seokmin's reaction, but his face gives nothing away; his big chocolate eyes are trained on you with such intensity that you're scared to move, intuitively understanding that pulling back right now will ruin something unspoken. carefully, not taking his eyes off you, seokmin takes a small bite, cutting short distance between you two to the point that one more move and your lips will touch. you are frozen, heart also stopped beating while mind is running frantically - what to do? but seokmin solves this puzzle for you - he leans in, takes one more bite and connects your mouths together. it's not a full kiss, but it's a not a simple peck either, you both pull back to actually chew and swallow strawberry bites and-

seokmin's hand on the back of your neck is heavy and warm. hedraws you back with a gentle force, making it clear that you can easily free yourself but also making it clear that this is not what he wants. 'tell me i'm not wrong or crazy,' he whispers, bringing your foreheads together. 'i- i just can't-' he takes a deep breath before opening his eyes and looking at you. the amount of hope and longing in his gaze shakes you to the core. 'can i kiss you? for real?'

you have no idea how you're still standing because your heart gave up long time ago. you nod and your heart starts beating again when seokmin's lips touch yours - hesitantly, at first. but then diving in deeper, more confidently, drawing out sounds from you that surprise you both. when you lean back, he keeps you two so close that you wonder if he can hear how loudly your heart is beating.

'i like you,' seokmin lets out. 'in case it wasn't clear.'

you giggle at this. 'it's mutual, seokkie.'

he sighs in relief, hugging you tight. seokmin fears that this is all a dream and when he wakes up, it will all be gone. so while you can't see, he pinches himself lightly and hugs you even tighter when he realizes that you did not disappear.

'i owe you guys.' seokmin says, looking seriously at the pack of pepero. 'thanks.'

you slap his chest, laughing. 'we both owe them!'

a/n: oh to play pepero with lee seokmin :((( hopefully you liked it, let me know! - nini

my other seventeen works are here

[contentloadingandstuff]

Breaking Up With Them - Beidou & Eula X Male!Reader

A/N: It's been a long time since I did one of these. I hope I didn't lose my skill for writing angst.

CW: Unhealthy relationship dynamics, ambivalent fault (Beidou), alcohol abuse, foul language, not proofread.

Beidou is a free spirit. Strong, self-sufficient, witty and, most importantly, independent. For years now she has been the one at the helm, steering her life towards any waters she, and only she, feels like. That doesn't matter; she still forms attachments, of course. The ship, the whole fleet, her crew, the Traveler, Kazuha and you are all examples of nice things she holds dear.

Yes. Nice things.

You loved her for her freedom. She decided for herself and walked on her own path, allowing you the same space to do your own thing. You were partners - equals in this relationship. There wasn't a thing she could do that you couldn't. Going out drinking? Allowed. Sleeping over at a hotel or a friend's house instead of your shared corner of Liyue Harbour or the ship? If the situation demands, why not? It's safer than coming back drunk through the streets. Hanging out with pals without the other half? Sure, it's not like you're out cheating. Both of you accepted this and thrived in this setup. You trusted her with your heart, just like you did with your life many times before.

Months went by, then years. You lived a life of adventure, merrymaking and seamanship by her side. This was nice, but just warming her bed wasn't enough for you. She was beautiful, brave and kind. You loved her, you wanted more. But Beidou wasn't keen on talking about marriage. It was always “later” or “we’ll figure it out”, followed by a date that you just knew would net you the same answer. You couldn't honestly say you understood her. Twirling her engagement ring to-be in your fingers, you wondered why. What was making her turn you down? These doubts ate away at you, and soon enough, you wanted to confront her. But she was faster.

—

“Still holding on to that thing, aren't you?”

You jump, closing your hand the moment you hear a familiar, strong voice behind you. Head turning away from the window and back at the newcomer, you spring up from the chair. You lay eyes on none other than the capitan herself.

“Beidou?” You say, a bit of embarrassment in your voice. After all, being caught like this didn't scream “tough guy”. “Knock first, please.”

She is leaning on the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. “Why should I? You're not playing with yourself here, are you?”

Beidou chuckles, relaxing her arms and walking over. “Besides, I'd gladly join you if you were~” She plops herself next to you, placing her hand on your thigh.

“Mhm…” You muse, gently stopping her hand from going where it's not ladylike to go. “Do you have any business, or did you come here just to fluster me, hun?”

Her face turns to an expression of mock disappointment for a brief moment. “Aw, you're not fun.” Beidou sighs and motions at your closed hand, covering the small, golden ring. “Yeah, I have something to talk about. This, specifically.”

Your heart stops, before beating again at twice the speed. Is she… No, can't be. But, maybe…? You relax your grip, revealing the ornament on your open palm. Both of you look at it, before raising your eyes to meet the other’s.

Much to your chagrin, Beidou doesn't lift a finger.

“Give it a rest, Y/N. Let's not hurry with our relationship. We have a nice thing going between us, and we could ruin it if we're going too fast, you know?”

You furrow your brow. “You always say that. You've said that for the past year.”

“Why won't you just let it go?”

“And why won't you accept it?”

Silence. Beidou bites her lip. There's a spark in her eye, the same that announces she's had enough. You swallow.

“Because I don't want to marry you, alright? I don't want to settle down, I don't want a husband, I don't want children. That's it.”

Your heart doesn't stop. It doesn't even slow down, or flinch, or react with the slightest of movements. Even though her words are not what you ever wanted to hear, the reasonable part of you was prepared for the news. She continues.

“Listen, Y/N, babe, hun, darling.” Beidou takes your face in her calloused hands, touching your cheeks with the gentleness you've grown accustomed to. This time, her touch felt… pointless. “It's not about you specifically, alright? I love you, I still do. Nothing has changed about that. I just don't want to become a house hen, let go of the life I have-”

“But none of this will happen! The only thing that will change will be the rings on our fingers…” You say, but your confidence wanes. Beidou smiles, shaking her head.

“No, babe. That's not what you, or what my children would deserve. You deserve a commited, stable relationship. You deserve a wife and mother at home, and stable land under your feet.” A sigh escapes her lips. She brushes her finger across your cheek, as if wiping an invisible tear from your eye. “You don't deserve the burden of a dangerous life away from home. Remember - a single bad storm and we're fish food.”

“Beidou, listen, I-” You pull back, but she tries to cup your face again. Your pulse rises as you swat her hands away. “No, don't play sweet with me! You…”

Unable to take it, you stand up. Deep breaths, you think, looking for the right words in your head. Finally, they come, but you can only utter them through your teeth. Your head, your chest, your cheeks and hands feel hotter by the second.

“Seven years… We are a couple for seven years now, and you've never told me this…”

Beidou frowns, scoffing. “What? Nope. I did.” The gentleness in her demeanor fades, replaced by a tone of disappointment. “I've given you more than enough clues. It was obvious from the first time you asked.”

“Obvious? Not really.” You point an accusatory finger at her. “Why didn't you tell me outright?”

“Pfeh! I didn't think you'd fail to catch on. Besides, I care about your feelings. It would be a major blow to our relationship.”

“What do you mean “major blow”? Then why are telling me this now? Is it any less major?”

Beidou feels her pressure rise. Why are you this stupid? You press on.

“You appreciate honesty, right? Then how come you weren't honest with me yourself? Hypocritical of you, Beidou!”

“For fucks’ sake, Y/N! Shut up and let me speak for a moment!” You go quiet. She never raised her voice on you before, but Beidou is too agitated to care. “Archons! Sorry, I didn't account for you being a retard I guess? Look, the point is that my answer is no. And my answer will be no, every single fucking time you ask me. What we have now works for me, and if you can't understand it, fuck off.”

Thick silence fills the room. Beidou is red on the face; her eyes are sharp, chest raising and falling with her faster breathing. She points at the door of her cabin.

Unsure, you look back. This… Well, this had to end someday. Even so, you can't make the steps to walk out. It's as if your feet were frozen to the planks below.

“I'm sorry. It's just… I can't really keep this going. I don't want to give you false hope. So, uh…”

Beidou looks down, suddenly unable to face you.

“You have the keys, right? Pack up and go. Don't look back. It will be best for both of us.”

You sigh. Perhaps she is right. But it still hurts to let her go. But regardless, you need time to think, and she needs it as well. Maybe it is for the best.

“Right. See you, I guess…”

Beidou doesn't respond. You press the handle and step over the threshold, turning your head to catch one last glance of Beidou. You hope to see tears, hope to hear her plead for you to come back. But only a vague grimace rests on her face.

You step out, and never come back.

Eula’s life was a tough one since the day of her birth. For the first half, she struggled with the demands of an aristocratic upbringing under the unwavering scrutiny of her parents and relatives, and her reward was equally unrelenting harassment and ostracism for the other part. Even the strongest of people would struggle to go on like this, so it's no wonder that Eula picked up a few coping methods throughout the years. Embracing the role of a stereotypical Lawrence through speech and mannerisms, while certainly never helping her reputation, did give her a sense of belonging in the liminal world between her pedigree and the whole of society. Inevitably, the main temptation in the Nation of Freedom pulled her in, and Eula soon became a regular at Angel's Share. Thus, a perfect regular she became - the captain always left loads of Mora at the tavern while having the capacity to never become a nuisance, no matter the amount of alcohol in her veins. 

When the first wave of hate sizzled out thanks to her deeds in the Knights and Amber befriended her, Eula's coin pouch suddenly felt heavier as less money was spent on drinks. She opened up to people, and in return, they lowered their guard. She could buy things again, people (most of them anyway) stopped throwing her hateful glances and spitting at the mention of her name. Somehow, the opposite sex stopped resenting her enough to not only stop calling her “the Lawrence whore”, but also show a bit of interest in her as a woman. Just a tiny bit. But clearly, she improved her relationship with the men of Mondstadt sufficiently to become an interesting person in your eyes. And what a guy you were - willing to spend time with her beyond what's absolutely necessary, and enjoying every minute of it. A romantic, a wonderful dance partner, a stalwart companion she could lean on - you were each of those things. She fell in love, and as mutual lovers do, you soon slipped the rings on each other’s fingers. 

And yet, this moment of her life, undoubtedly the happiest at the time, became a spark that ignited a new storm of issues. Her family, while already dissatisfied and looking at the young woman with suspicion, now became disgusted with her. She married a commoner, a commoner that wasn't even rich. Your status as a simple baker was enough to push them to start actively harassing you and your business, for no other reason than that you were “corrupting” the Lawrence bloodline with that street filth they thought was flowing in your veins. Eula, of course, instantly took up the glove and started fighting them in courts and in dark alleys, helping out whenever she could. You were one of the few that treated her well, and she could never let anybody hurt you. Especially if it was because of her. The fight was not so simple, however, as the distaste towards her name returned, now spreading on you as well. People mocked you, called you “the Lawrence fucker”, they harassed you and her, also occasionally attacking your bakery. Broken windows, graffiti, false rumours and allegations - that had to be fought against as well. As your wife, it was her duty to defend you, especially if who they really wanted was her. 

But it was a war of attrition, and no matter how hard she fought, she needed back up. Eventually, the comforting embrace of hard liquor was too powerful to resist and Eula made the first step back on that slippery slope of a path. But this time, she had much to lose. 

—

Nine. Ten. Eleven. 

You reach under the desk, scanning the area for more. There they are, you think, grabbing the neck of another bottle of wine, filled only with the ever present dust. With a frown of disgust, you kneel on the floor, sticky with… something. 

Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty one. Twenty two. 

The bag, clicking with every added bottle, is becoming unbearably heavy. It's getting heavy, but you wanted to get it over with quickly - another three or four couldn't hurt your back that much. 

Twenty three. Twenty four. 

The front door opens, marking Eula’s arrival. She was late, indicating the obvious. Nonetheless, you remain dedicated to your task - her room was starting to resemble a gang hideout, and the smell and dust were starting to spread across the house. It was unhealthy to be in it, let alone sleep there. Your wife could at least let you wash the duvet and pillows more often. You gave up on hoping she could do it on her own some time ago. 

Twenty five. 

You close the sack and twist the end, lifting it up and heading for the basement. These bottles weren't worth much by themselves, but sold back to the Winery in this quantity, would net you some extra Mora. Maybe you could finally buy a new vacuum cleaner battery from the Fontaine merchant this month - the house could really use a dusting, but you've grown thoroughly sick of sweeping. 

“Good afternoon, dear.” You say as you pass your wife in the corridor. Every part of you is focused on keeping the bag as still as possible. If you'd manage to act fast and inconspicuous, maybe she wouldn't turn her eyes towards you. You really weren't in the mood to talk to her. 

She doesn't respond, walking past you to the bathroom. A little haste, enabled by the ability to be loud without consequence, leads you to the storage and back in seconds. You wave another bag, spreading it out for the task to come. However, by the time you're back on the cleaning’s frontline, she already finished up and returned there. 

Seeing Eula in her underwear, sat down on the unmade bed with her clothes discarded in the corner and a book in her hand, makes you stop in your tracks. Her silence tells you she's in a foul mood, and regardless of the reason, you would not want to interact with her now. Still, the cleaning wouldn't do itself. You clutch the bag and go in. 

Keeping your eyes glued to the floor and your step confident might be overkill, but you really don't want her to question you. She doesn't seem to mind you cleaning her room, luckily. 

Twenty six. Twenty seven. Twenty eight. Twenty nine. 

You get up and look at the bed. The messy, dirty lair was where Eula spent most of her time - no wonder, given that the desk was stacked high with tomes, bottles and trash at all times. You notice a familiar shape on the windowsill. 

Thirty. Thirty one. Thirty two bottles of wine and one miniature of Snezhnayan Fire Water. 

“I'm not done with that. Give it here.”

You freeze just short of putting the small bottle in the trash bag. On closer inspection, there indeed is some clear liquid left inside. Without looking at her, you pass her the bottle. With the corner of your eye you see Eula down what's left and put it on the ground, amongst the dust, hair and dried wine. With a slightly tense hand you pick it up and place it in the bag. 

Turning around to look for the rest, you hear her voice again. 

“Why are you here? Stop cleaning and get out of here. I want to be alone.” She turns her head just enough to look at you sideways. Her eyes are cold and bitter, a far cry to the feelings you saw therein years ago. “Don't you understand that?”

“I need to tidy up here. The dust spreads to other rooms, and I think you could use some more space”, you say, as confidently and casually as you can, continuing to place bottles in your bag. 

Thirty three. Thirty four. Thir-

A creak of the bed makes you spin around. Eula's book is on the floor, a torn off wine label used as a bookmark. You sneak a quick glance at her face to asses her mood, finding a displeased grimace on her face. Her normally pale complexion has a fair bit of colour to it now. 

On no, no no no. Barbaros no. Please no. Not good. Not good. 

“You can tidy all you want when I'm on duty, not now. I come here for peace and quiet, not you plunging this room into chaos with your nonsense. Is that so hard to understand?” Her breath reaches you, and your nose instantly picks up a hint of alcohol amongst the smell of unwashed teeth. 

Your lips tighten. This really needs to be done, maybe you could grab at least one more- 

Eula’s voice grows louder. Her hands find her way to her hips. “Are you deaf? Or just dumb? Besides, it's late and you should be in bed. Fuck off to sleep.”

It is eleven in the evening, and you were usually in bed - if you weren't, your slightly drunk wife would stumble into your room and kill every light source without a word. But this phrase was nothing new to you, and it always spelled incoming anger each time. When drunk, Eula was a ticking bomb - recently, even the slightest annoyance could push her into a frenzy of bitter accusations and foul language. You weren't about to provoke her. 

“Okay, I'll leave. I'm sorry.” You turn around, and head for the door. However, you feel a strong hand grip your wrist, holding you in place. “Y-yes, honey?”

Eula’s face is the same, unchanging frown. Her eyes are misty and unfocused from the alcohol in her system. “Don't honey me. What's the deal with you lately? You either beg me for money or act like a retard.”

Swallowing, you think of an answer. Asking her why she said so was pointless - in her eyes, even the smallest of things could become proofs of infidelity or some flaw of character. But the only thing occupying your mind is her state. Without much thinking, you quietly answer. “Eula, I-I think you're drunk… Can we talk about this later?”

You flinch when her grip tightens. “Again with that bullshit? I told you, I'm never drunk - I know myself, and I know how much I can drink. I am never drunk, and I am not a drunk. Got that?”

A meek nod from you makes her brow furrow. “Look me in the eyes when I speak to you. Do you understand?” She clenches her hand further, eliciting a quiet gasp from you. 

“Yes, Eula. I understand. You're never drunk. I'm sorry for saying that.” Nothing matters in your mind now except appeasing her. You don't want to be screamed at, not again. Hesitantly, you look up at her. “Could you let go? It hurts…”

She does so, and you immediately rub your wrist. It's red and aching, and Eula doesn't seem to care. “So why do you keep asking for money huh? Are you spending it on your whims, Y/N? Or maybe on hookers? The money I gave you was always enough in the past.”

“It wasn't. I always had to chip in too.” You reply, sounding a bit defensive. You can't help it - your income is not great compared to her, but you work hard for it. It's only natural for you to defend yourself, but you instantly regret it when you hear her tone raise. 

“You're lying. I know how much we spend. Don't bullshit me.” She snarls. 

“Eula, please calm down. The sink broke, a-and we needed to change the toilet seat, and I had to buy winter clothes. I'm asking because the floors would really use a make-over, the walls are a bit dirty too… I could paint them, if I had the money.” There was always so much to do around the house, but Eula usually ignored it. She wasn't about to fix anything herself, and you would do it no problem, but you needed Mora to buy the necessary items. More than you could afford on your own. 

“You have the money. You're trying to make a fool out of me again, huh? What, stuffing your mouth with what we have at home doesn't suffice anymore? You wanna eat out?” You try to talk back, but she cuts you off. “Don't you dare try to say anything, you fat, sneaky asshole. You just want to pocket the cash! That's why you married me, huh?”

It's not the first time you hear these words, but they hurt all the same. How can she say those things to her own husband? What did you do to her? “Eula, why are you like this?”

“What? Why am I not taking your lies, you mean? Because I'm not stupid enough to fall for your puppy eyes.” She places her hand on your back and pushes you towards the door. “I've had my share of your shit today. Get out.”

You don't say a word, stumbling slightly as she forces you out. When she's done, Eula leans on the doorway for support. You know it's not right. You know it's toxic. Usually, you would bow and take it. But something in your heart, a small flicker of dignity, bubbles up to the top. 

“You're abusive Eula. You shouldn't treat me like this! I c-clean the house, I work hard, I do everything-”

Eula scoffs in response. “How dare you. I give you money, I give you a roof over your head, I keep you safe from the people, I love you, I care for you and I get this in return. How dare you, you ungrateful bastard!”

She lounges at you. 

“No! Please, Eula, I-” You say, but the words die in your throat when she grabs your collar. Then, with the alcohol clouding her self control, she throws you towards your room. 

You fall on the floor, hitting your head on a drawer. Hand clutching your head in an attempt to shield it, you look back. Eula, her stance wobbling a little, grabs your work bag, opens it, and dumps all the tools and items on the floor. She tossed the empty container at you. 

“Pack yourself, mister. You're no husband of mine. Beg on the street, where you belong - I don't care.” Upon seeing the shock on your face, she stomps her foot and shouts. “Move!”

Scrambling to get up, you pull open your drawer and  frantically scoop up everything inside. Watching you, Eula crosses her arms, using the wall as a support for her blurry world. Once the mass of clothes reaches the top of your pack, she approaches you, causing you to leap towards the door and run. She tries to kick you, but is not coordinated enough to do so. Still, she pursues you and watches as you turn around. 

“Out!”

You shut the door. 

Eula looks at it for a minute with unfocused eyes. Her heart beats rapidly, her body is hot, but there's still some sober though in her mind. 

She turns on her heel back towards her room. After snatching a full bottle from the wardrobe, Eula pushes all the clutter on her desk aside and sits down. She gulps down a third of the bottle in one breath, indifferent to the warmth spreading in her throat. The bottle is slammed down on the desk with a loud thud. 

Her head soon follows.

She falls into empty sleep, your terrified face burnt into her memory. Forever. 

Thanks for reading.

[we-cool-beans]

Thinking about this comic again ough. I also dont think I ever fully explained Benreys fear? Ill ramble about that under the cut as an extra tw for drowning and evil Black Mesa experiments yadda yadda.

Im sure Benrey had some time in the tube like Bubby never anything too serious. Unlike Bubby though, Benrey wasn’t created in a tube, so his first time was traumatic. This however isn’t where the bulk of the fear comes from.

A heavy portion of it comes from “cleaning procedures” before and after tests. On bad days, no one wants to get anywhere near a large dangerous mass of angry limbs and sharp teeth, and on “good” days Benrey cant really be trusted with his own devices. Solution to this? Big hose of harsh spraying water. This was never fun for Benrey and things never went down well if he resisted this. This causes issues later when he escapes and disguises himself as a security guard (the levels of Xen energy he radiates being too much to safely and fully escape without being fully located). He doesn’t produce sweat and stink the same way humans do, letting him go longer without needing to force himself into the traumatic showers in the locker room, only when he is sure no one is around.

Not just this but he has had gone through experiments testing his resistance and abilities in water. None of these helped his building fear of water.

Though. Its not a complete fear of water. There is no fear over stagnant water, only flowing, moving, splashing water. In HLVRAI think to when Coomer is fighting the mutant sharks and Benreys on a little platform complaining about being stuck. He can and will swim. But not if the water is stirred and moving against his control, when it becomes too much for him.

He can last much longer underwater without the need to breath compared to humans, but the trauma and anxiety becomes too much to the point where his body forgets to stop breathing and suddenly he’s choking on water.

This is why in the comic Gordon mentions Benrey having shown excitement to the pool, because when he saw it, the water was calm and stagnant. It looked like a good way to relax and slowly work over his fear. But when the chaotic science team got in, the water stirred, and Benrey understood what a pool party entailed and is suddenly reminded of his fears. He still tries to get over it, to slowly work on it without alerting the others and. Well. You see how it went.

Tw: drowning. Fear of water. Angst and panic.

Sometimes you forget how scared you are of things until you see them…

[papagabu]

I originally wasn't going to post this, but here's an early low-effort concept thing for my Sonic AU. Obviously, none of these designs are final (Except Shadow), as evidenced by the fact Tails looks very different from the more finalized design from my previous post.

Shadow is just a PNG from Google because he's going to look exactly the same as he does in the games (and I was too lazy to do a low effort drawing of him after everyone else)—not because I didn't want to give my own spin on Shadow, but because story-wise in this AU he just got released from Prison Island by Tails so he wouldn't look any different from SA2.

Infinite or Zero (I haven't settled on if I want to call him Zero or not; I heard somewhere Infinite was his birth name, and Zero is just a popular fan name). I feel like I would change his design the most; I mostly based it on custom character clothes from Sonic Forces as a little fun reference, but over time I've grown dissatisfied with that look.

Strangely, before looking at this picture again, I thought my Knuckles design was really bad, but looking at it again, I now feel like it actually looks really good, except maybe the clothes on the body; I don't know about the green jacket/vest and the yellow scarf anymore. The design is inspired by Knucks from Sonic Prime, the Shovel Claws (Specifically how they're designed in Sonic X), and Treasure Hunter Knuckles.

And finally, Metal Sonic, or the Metal Emperor, as he's called in this form, wasn't finished because I could never figure out what to do with the lower body. Heavily inspired by Neo Metal Sonic and Mecha Sonic, visually I wanted a more imposing Metal Sonic design, making him taller and broader. I think I'd probably change his arms once I get around to finalizing his design; everything else from what little I finished, I'm fairly satisfied with.

[kkpaaw]

I got another headcanon on the og4 and their elements cuz fun

Kinda a continuation of this post but also kinda not. I vaguely mentioned a bond they had that was unrelated to the main headcanon, but it's not a necessary read but I still encourage it cuz the overall headcanon is fun

The og 4 are connected on a much deeper scale. A much deeper scale that none of em like but cannot do a damn thing about

Because they have the elements of creation, they originally came from the FSM and as such used to all be together. So when they were seperated into the 4 seperate elements we know today, that "bond" from once being "one" didn't leave and instead traveled into the future wielders

This means that Kai, Cole Jay and Zane all have an inherent bond with eachother that they don't have with anyone else that is directly tied to their elements. Think soulbond essentially

The urge to be around eachother, the feeling of distress and loss and dread when they aren't, that all stems from their elements seeking to be near eachtother

The bond isn't harmful physically but the emotional distress do be there

The further away they are the bigger those feelings of distress and loss etc become. The longer they r away from eachother causes those same feelings

The first time they had to be seperated for longer than a few minutes didn't go well. At all.

That was when Sensei Wu told them about the bond they share snd are unfortunately stuck with as there is no way to be rid of it. Their elements desire to be near eachother and as such act out(and therefore causes the user to act out) when they aren't.

Sensei then had to put them through another series of training sessions to get then used to not being around eachother often. He taught them many methods of calming themselves down and clearing their mind which they still use to help today

They have a much better grasp of their bond now and as such don't freak out as visibly or as bad as they used to. The urge and discomfort is always there but they have better control to not act in those urges recklessly.

Each of the ninja respond differently to being seperated as well

For Kai his temper becomes shorter and shorter. He becomes more snappish and willing to fight. Explosive essentially

Jay's anxiety gets worse and he becomes more paranoid. He's more jumpy and easy to panic. Static shock is common when he's in this state

Cole becomes clingy to an unhealthy degree. He's the one most likely to stop whatever he's doing and leave to seek out the others no matter the situation.

Zane becomes more distant. Like it seems as if he isn't fully there if that makes sense. His emotions take a huge backseat and he seems like a husk

Lloyd is lucky to not have to deal with this. Due to him having all four elements he doesn't have to worry about that feeling of dread or loss when he's separated from the others (though a part of him wishes he did so he could understand what they going through more, but at the same time hes glad he doesn't cuz hes seen how it affects them and he wants none of it)

I wanna make a diagram to show the bond on a visual scale bit that will have to wait till i feel like it LOL

This headcanon also isn't meant to be inherently romantic tho it definitely could be (Especially since I am a Polyninja(or Lifeship) fan) but the concept of the hc is not to imply a romantic bond LOL

There i go making paragraphs again bro no one cares-

[kanmom51]

Have Jikook changed?

My first post for 2025 and here I am, once again, making some points that I feel need to be made.

This is going to be a long one, so brace yourselves for it.

Now that I'm back home from my trip I felt like talking about this post I came by, more so talk about the ask in this post:

I wanted to address this issue that has been concerning some Jikookers over the past year.

This coming up over and over again:

"Jikook have changed". "Their relationship has changed". "They aren't the same", yadda yadda yadda...

Truthfully, this is not something new.

I heard this back in 2021. I heard it in 2022. I definitely heard it in 2023 (who didn't?) and even in 2024, which has me racking my brain seeing as to what they gave us with AYS, their choice of enlistment together and them, in the very few times we heard from them since they enlisted, making sure to tell us they are together (for all those that keep claiming they aren't), they are good, and as of late, JK letting us know they spend their free time together and sing while showering together everyday - yes - everyday.

ALT

I am aware of the fact that many of those voicing these claims are not and never were Jikookers. Amongst them you will find your proverbial cultists (you know exactly who I'm talking about), and antis of all sorts, including but not only JK and JM solos.

When I talk about Jikookers, well, I'm talking about supporters. And I use the word supporters because I do believe there is a stark difference between those who support JM and JK and their bond and love for each other, and shippers that at times are in this for their own gratification rather than support for those two young men. This self gratification can come in many forms. For example, one of them is feeding off drama. Needing JK and JM's relationship to have it's ups and downs. Needing there to be cheating and breakups and heartbreak, making it much more interesting and not just your run of the mill boring long term relationship, cause where's the fun in that?

There are also the 'insecure' Jikookers. These are those that need that constant affirmation from JK and JM, need them to 'prove' they are indeed together, that their bond is as strong as it has always been, that they are MORE than friends to each other. When this affirmation doesn't come they become unsure, start to question it all. And when a blurry no-faced 8 sec clip shows up, they disregard the timing of the clip landing, they disregard it showing up with clearly doctored other clips and pics, they disregard all the suspicious inconsistencies in that clip, including apartment placement, windows placement, furniture placement including objects that aren't supposed to be there, problematic supposed timeline of the filming. Apparently it's enough for there to be a few similarities (while ignoring everything that doesn't fit) for it to be a PROVEN clip of JK. I'm not even going into it being a totally innocent interaction that proves absolutely none of the vile things people, that were supposed Jikookers, were now saying about JK. Not to mention conclusions that were now made regarding JK and JM and their bond and relationship. One grainy clip had people dismiss years of interactions and words spoken by those two, including in 2023, including JK's lives, including JM flying out to be with JK in July, including JK's "I go the other way" TikTok and him coming live shortly after and telling us all that he does not have a girlfriend. Apparently JK supposedly hugging a woman makes him: straight, a cheater, in a relationship with a woman, a king of fanservice using JM to promote his own career.

Where does this insecurity stem from?

Is it because these are two very desirable men that could HAVE anyone they ever wanted, and how can it be that they chose to be in a monogamous relationship with another man for years and since they were literally teenagers? Is it even Homophobia perhaps (including internalised)? Is it due to lack of maturity or lack of experience or bad experience in love and relationships? Is it a combination of all of the above? IDK.

This is becoming long winded... I know I said this will be long, but this is me not even getting started on the points I wanted to make in this post.

Let me sum this up before I move on:

People love drama. People need constant affirmation, especially when it comes to a queer relationship between two hunks of men that are the wet dream of millions, regardless of their sexuality or gender. People have a hard time coming to terms with these two men being in a healthy loving long term relationship.

I guess it's time I started getting to what I wanted to convey here...

I wanted to talk about the whole "they changed" issue.

Because you know, I really struggle understanding what people actually want from JK and JM when it comes to that. What do they expect from them?

What their expectations would be of a straight couple.

What their expectations would be of a straight long term couple.

What their expectations would be of two straight superstars who happen to be in a long term relationship.

Insert the queer into that equation.

Insert queer closeted into that equation.

And now try to make sense of it all.

What do they expect of 2 mega superstars in a 10 year, more or less, queer closeted healthy monogamous long term loving relationship?

This is about the closeted queer relationship, but it's also about what exactly does a long term relationship look like. Healthy long term relationships, straight or queer. Because I do believe that there are too many who have zero idea of what that is supposed to look like. You know, in real life.

Do anons like the one in that post even know what that kind of a relationship looks like to make the claims they do?

There is a reason why so many people that are in such a relationship are recognising Jikook for it!!!

Oh, and btw, I saw their follow-up ask in which they 'explain' what they mean by "changed". Yeah, all the same same. Distanced, not seen together, not spend time together, enlistment together not an actual choice, yadda yadda yadda... Bull meet crap. Jikooker or not is irrelevant to the points I want to make, so I'm not going to get into it. What I want to talk about is Jikook's relationship. Or more so, what a healthy relationship looks like. Over time. As it progresses.

Key word being:

Progresses.

A relationship is dynamic. It grows. It changes. Even more so a healthy one. As the people in the relationship grow, mature, as both JM and JK did (seeing they started out in their teens or early 20s), so does their relationship. Not to mention it changing and adapting to the environment it's in, to realities that change.

A relationship that stays the same, it becomes stagnant. We change all the time. Our surroundings change. The people around us change. If the relationship itself stayed the same it would not survive the test of time.

2013 Jikook are not 2014 Jikook.

Jikook in 2015 are different than they were in 2014 (I mean, their dynamics changed and progressed during 2015 itself as well).

Jikook 2016 are not the same as they were in 2015.

Jikook dynamics in 2017 are different than they were in 2016.

And so on so forth. All the way into 2023 and 2024.

You cannot expect Jikook 2017 to be the same as Jikook 2019, and the same as Jikook 2021 and the same as Jikook 2023-4? And their relationship isn't existing in a vacuum. Untouched, uninfluenced or impacted by everything that is going on around them.

They grew, their environment and reality changed, and as such their dynamics changed and progressed.

Anyone that has followed those two, anyone that joined over time and has watched original content from the past 11 years has seen the progression of their relationship. And make no mistake. This whole "they aren't the same" didn't start in 2023. But it sure has become louder since mid 2021 up to today. There are many reasons to this, growth of the fandom being one of them, but I do believe the main issue was less Jikook content starting end of 2021, basically starting with Chapter two. Them going on their long break and then hiatus into their solo debuts. Less BTS ot7 content meant less Jikook time. Period. Jikook are allowed to be themselves more so when they have the protection of all 7 around them. So, during this period of time we mostly got the same interactions as before, only thing is that we got much less of them and into 2023 we got close to none. This drove people mad. It simply cannot be that the two have a relationship but we aren't allowed to see it, right? There is no way that they are spending time together and we don't know about it... If they aren't seen out together (more so if K-army are not telling us if they are), can they actually still be a couple? As a couple how can they not be fully involved in each other's solo careers, including letting us know that they are, right? I keep saying this, well, I've said it all the way back from 2021: Not seeing them doesn't mean they aren't there. And the two showed us exactly that. We got crumbs of it throughout 2023 but even more so in the end of that year. They have been seeing each other. Spending time at each other's places. Talking to each other about their music. Sharing their songs with each other getting their input. Each knowing the other's songs before released. Knowing as in even being able to sing or hum them. And the choice of enlisting together, the choice not to be separated for the 18 months of service. The choice to go into a fighting unit on the frontline being the price to be paid so that they can stay together. No, there is no comparison to Jin. Yes he was in a base that is considered to be close to the frontline, but he was an instructor in basic training, not a fighter in a frontline unit ready for battle at any given moment. As for the stories about JK not being able to enlist into Tae's unit. Nope. Not true. JK's tattoos weren't preventing him from getting into that unit. Not to mention, if it was that important for Tae to be with JK and the latter couldn't enlist into that unit, well you'd expect Tae to make the effort and enlist into a unit where they could be together, no? Kind of like what JM and JK did to be able to be with each other... There was a clear choice made - for JK and JM to be TOGETHER. The two of them. Period.

Again I digress.

What's wrong with me?????

I was going to talk about healthy long term relationships...

"Jikook have changed", "their relationship has changed". Well, DAH. Of course it has. That's what happens with an ongoing relationship.

If they hadn't changed then I would maybe have doubts, you know, "it's only a friendship" kind of doubts. Although, even friendships change with time (wouldn't that mean that a closer more intimate relationship with another person was prone to change even more so?). Or, like some 'Jikookers' like to talk about them being attracted to each other but never making that move beyond the attraction - yes, then we would be seeing pretty much of the same Jikook as in the early years, but we aren't. We are seeing exactly how a couple's relationship progresses overtime.

But from the little we are privileged to see, the little they allow us to, seeing that even though they are public figures they are still entitled to have a private life, their dynamics, they are clearly as close as ever and A-ok. The level of intimacy between them is beyond, and it's funny to me how so many missed how they stood out so clearly in AYS, but even more so in AYS Jeju. The stark difference between those two, their interactions, their tones with each other, the care towards each other, and then with Tae. It's both ways btw. Each of them towards Tae and Tae with each of them. Clear difference between friends and couple.

But let's move on from AYS, and specifically from the clear differences we saw in Jeju.

Let's talk about those "changes" these shippers, or "insecures" or antis are seeing. I read the comments to the post and I agree with many of them. And I also agree that in a way this anon here represents basic homophobic ideas. The thought of a healthy monogamous long term queer relationship is so unheard of for them that clear signs of exactly that are interpreted as the exact opposite. Clear signs of that calmness, settled in day to day routines, the even, for lack of another term, BORING contentment of a couple are being ignored because what? They themselves have zero idea what a healthy long term relationship looks like? Because they aren't really interested in JK and JM's happiness and want to see the drama, the push and pull, the teenage boy hard to hide or disguise attraction?

Well, I've got some news for those I mention above.

Relationships, the healthier they are, the more they change, adapt. To each other and to everything that surrounds them.

JK and JM grew up.

JK was 18 and JM 20 when things changed between them (in my book). They are now in their late 20s.

They matured. Their relationship matured.

And it adapted.

Adapted to everything and everyone around them.

It changed and adapted to the pandemic in 2020-21. JM struggled, JK was there with him through it all.

Hybe being created. Hybe going public. Hybe vying to buy SM. MHJ and the shit she's pulled, even way back in 2022.

BTS hiatus. Solo debuts.

All these have had an impact on their relationship. Not as to end it, but most definitley having to adapt to these new realities. And as a couple in this industry and a queer one as such, these all also had an affect on what they allowed us to see. Of them. Because of course these last ones impact what we are being allowed to see or hear. Of course there is much that is happening that we don't know, much that we don't get to see, much that we are not allowed to see.

Put all of those together and see where that puts you with regards to a 10 year long term relationship.

A couple in a healthy long term relationship makes for 2 people who share a level of intimacy shared with no others. It has it's ups and downs. They will be sarcastic with each other. They will bicker. They can be bitchy with each other. They will also be highly affectionate with each other. Caring, taking care of one another. Naughty and teasing and flirty with each other. The love is there. The attraction is there. But as time goes by and as they grow up it's more controllable. In a way, it can be referred to as SOFTER. Less edgy as it used to be in the early days. Less urgent perhaps would also be a way of putting it. Many like to refer to it as "domestic".

Jikook in AYS are all of that and more.

I also saw people claiming Jikook in AYS are clear evidence of that "change" they are talking about. And I sit here, running AYS through my head and trying to understand what the heck they're talking about, because AYS, all 8 episodes of the show, showed us just how GOOD Jikook are. As a couple. As a loving couple in a long term relationship. A long term relationship that's been going on since late 2015. A long term relationship that started out with two hormonal driven teenage (totally uncontrollable, lol) boys changing, adapting, growing into two almost 30 year old men (still hormonal, but with much more restraint around each other while on camera, lol).

**Side note: Something I haven't talked about much in this post, but the camera is also a huge part here (when it comes to AYS), one most of those who talk about that "change" seem to forget. Add the fact that although these two have lived many hours in front of the cameras over the years, those cameras haven't been a consistent presence in the past few years, unlike pre 2020. Not to mention that this is the first time the two have ALL of the attention on them and them alone. It's not a coincidence (like most things when it comes to those two) that the moment these people are latching on to is from the first few minutes of the first episode of AYS, as the two just embarked on the unknown journey of filming this show, that they didn't even know what it will look like and what to call at start. I wonder how these Jikook relationship critics would be behaving with a camera in their faces all while being in a closeted relationship... Let's not play stupid and not understand the ramifications of their relationship being 'outed', even more so before they are willing and/or ready for it.

**Another side note: Also, behaviours tend to change according to the situation. Jikook on stage with adrenaline pumping in their veins, all pumped up and less inhibitions are not the same Jikook when first starting to film only the two of them for a show going on a long looked forward trip together. JK's "finally" says it all. Many talk about that car talk, I said what I had to say about it in this post:

They love to latch on to those few words, once again ignoring 8 chapters that show us exactly what they are to each other, not to mention JK's mentioning multiple times how he enjoyed the trips and in the last episode telling us these were the BEST trips of his life!!

**Oh, another side note (if I'm already at it): Another thing people tend to forget is that what we got is the tip of the iceberg of their trips. There are hours of footage they spent together we didn't get to see, not to mention hours they spent together with the cameras off (we saw that they did have control at times over the cameras, if to have the turned on or off). What about their Tokyo time together, which we never got to see of? And if I'm already mentioning this, then I feel the need, once again, to mention that what we get to see on camera or even through sightings of sorts once in a while, is NOTHING compared to what we don't see of their lives. The assumptions made by so many that they don't spend time together during these times is mind boggling to me. Even more so when we KNOW otherwise from little glimpses we get, like: JK talking to himself off camera (yeah, you think that was not on purpose?) that JM changed the angle of his mood lamp; JK telling JM as naturally as can be that he'll get his toiletries together and come have a shower at his place (like he doesn't live minutes away from him and can't shower at his own place); JM spending time with JK the night he got back from LA , JK cooking him dinner, not sleeping all night, only to leave on their Jeju trip together the next day; JK having the code to the apartment at nine one allowing himself in like it's his own place... just a few examples...

Enough with side notes and back to Jikook changing.

Yeah, that car talk is something they love to bring up time and time again. All while ignoring the abundance of moments that show oh so very clearly just how much JM and JK are so very much the same two people that are still so very much together.

The loud naughty moments

The playful/ fun/ also a little naughty moments

The you are me I am you moments

Butt hitting, hair pulling

The JK mesmerised by JM moments

The soft intimate moments.

The soft "I'm there for you" moments.

The caring moments

The JK cooking FOR JM moments

The "I have no straight explanation for this" moments

Basically that whole hot tub/ cold tub episode was just....

There was so so much more, my image limit is done and dusted. I'm visualising a series of posts (needs to be a series because of this silly image limit) for these moments... all the above (seeing that these were just a few examples among many more instances) plus more more more, like the teasing and so very couplie "I will do the thing I know will get a kick out of you because I know you oh so very much" moments as well (just posted my AYS masterlist, but also, go watch the show again!!).

And yes, the bickering and sarcastic moments too, cause babe, there ain't no long term relationship without all of those. It's a package. It's real life people, not a scripted drama.

If you can't be real with the person you love, if you can't show them not only when you are happy and content but also when you are unhappy, including with them, then that is not a healthy happy relationship.

I sometimes feel like those who won't see Jikook for what they are and what they have are driven by fear. Fear of a same sex couple is a huge one, but not only. Fear of what a healthy relationship is. Fear of never having that kind of a relationship would also be up there. Fear of what a long term relationship is - this idea that a relationship has to be static and intense and not understanding that the safety and comfort and ordinary day to day existence doesn't take away from the love you have for each other, nor the passion, quite the opposite.

And for those that don't get that, I feel a little sad, seeing that their expectations of a relationship are unrealistic or toxic.

I will end with this making it super clear:

JM and JK may have changed over the years. Their relationship has progressed and changed over the years as relationships do.

What they mean to each other, what they are to each other remains unchanged.

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | read on AO3

summary: Joel and reader finally make it back to the hotel & all that sexual tension is resolved. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv (very stupid, wrap it up kids), creampie, cunnilingus, face-sitting, (resolved) sexual tension, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasm (not really? kinda sorta?), smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair

Note: finally, the last part is here! I hope you’ll enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing this. It’s one in the morning so forgive any typos — I wanted to post today. Thank you for the consistent love on this story, I really appreciate all your messages and comments <3

Joel positively drags you back to the hotel, one arm slung across your shoulder, your hastily packed bags in the other. He’s quiet, and you’re afraid that talking will break the spell, that he will hear your voice and remember who you are, and what he’s planning on doing to you. You’re nervous. Excited, yes, but nervous – you’ve been with people before, drunken hookups with collage boys who wanted to get off as quickly as possible. None of it felt like this, you didn’t want any of them as people. With them, it was about the sex itself, with Joel it is almost entirely about him.

Your thoughts are racing in your head, insecurities bubbling up inside of you, things that didn’t matter when you slept with those other people you barely knew – will Joel mind that you aren’t clean shaven? Did he expect you to be more experienced than you were? Were you even good in bed, or would he be underwhelmed, and secretly think you were pathetic?

You want this, more than you have wanted to be with someone maybe ever. But that want makes you vulnerable, strips you of any nonchalance you might have clung to if Joel was anyone else. He isn’t some collage boy who won’t remember you in the morning, he is your father’s best friend, for whom you are a more than controversial choice. Sleeping with you is a threat to his friendship with your father, and still, he’s ready to risk it, he pretty much told you as much. That gives it a level of importance you aren’t used to when it comes to sex.

When you reach the hotel, Joel hurries past the reception before the kind lady can stop you, and despite your nervousness, it amuses you. Joel presses the button to the elevator impatiently, making your stomach flutter. He’s so shameless in his desire for you, not embarrassed by this open display of wanting to get to his room as quickly as possible. You would have worried about looking needy, but not Joel. He’s secure, and solid, and unflinching.

The doors open, and as soon as you’re inside, Joel crowds you against the wall of the elevator, catching your lips in a kiss, before moving his mouth to your neck. You exhale shakily at the feeling of him sucking on your skin, the beard burn a surprisingly welcome sensation.

"They’ve got cameras," you breathe, a weak attempt at regaining some sort of dignity, while Joel quickly unravels you under his mouth and hands.

"Fine by me," he just answers, "Should ask them for a copy to take home with me."

Your knees threaten to buckle at those words, his admission that this isn’t just a holiday hookup, that he will want you just as much when you have left this paradise and returned to the world outside of your bubble.

"Careful, baby," he says, one hand holding you steady by the waist, his lips ghosting over your jawline.

Baby.

With a sudden ding!, the doors open again, and an elderly couple steps inside. Joel stops kissing you, but doesn’t step away, his hand still on your waist, his big body still close to yours. You offer the couple an awkward smile, and barely register the judgement in their eyes as their gazes flicker over Joel’s hair specked with white, because Joel’s hand starts moving again. He slips it under your shirt, no his shirt, rough fingers drawing featherlight patterns on your sensitive waist. His touch is teasing, clearly meant to get some sort of reaction out of you in front of these strangers. Joel’s getting off on this, you realize, on being seen with you, on people knowing just what he plans on doing once you’ve reached the third floor. You bite the inside of your cheek and do your best not to let show how you ache for him, how his gentle touches are affecting you. If you look at him, you know your resolve will crumble, so you pointedly look at a point over his shoulder, and try not to shudder.

As soon as the doors open again, you and Joel get moving, and a nervous chuckle escapes you when you meet his eye. His expression is hard to read – blatant desire, but also something more gentle, something that calms your nerves. It’s Joel. He didn’t leave you hanging when you needed to borrow a bike, didn’t make you feel stupid or guilty for it being stolen, and he won’t make you feel stupid now. That’s what you like the most about him, you think, as his hand ghosts over your back and he leads you towards his room, the way he makes you feel at ease. Whatever the opposite of shame is, that’s what Joel brings out in you.

You reach the door, and want to push it open, but Joel stops you, tilting your face towards him with a gentle touch.

"You don’t have to do this," he says seriously, "we can just go back to the beach. No hard feelings."

You appreciate his consideration, the way he seems to be aware of a certain kind of pressure or expectation his age creates for you, but the idea of going back now, when you’re so close to what you want, makes you want to weep.

"Getting cold feet?", you ask lightly, and he smiles at you, a fond smile, one that seems oddly out of place given the situation.

"I’m just sayin’, I get it if you changed your mind or something. I assume this isn’t the way you…usually do things."

"No," you say, holding his eye contact. "Usually they’re twenty-five years younger."

Joel’s face is a perfect mask, not sure what to make of your remark. You reach up, your hand gently touching his beard, and your eyes glide over the wrinkles around his eyes from years of laughter, the white in his hair, his warm irises.

"God…you’re so fucking sexy," you breathe, and there it is again, that color his cheeks only turn when you compliment him.

"I haven’t changed my mind, Joel," you say honestly, looking directly into his eyes. "Have you?"

"No."

His voice is deep, and he finally, finally opens the door, eyes still on yours.

As soon as Joel pulls you into the room, his lips are on yours again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as he walks you over towards the bed. He’s bigger than you, much bigger, and it only really occurs to you when your knees give out under you, and you land on the bed, sitting in front of him and gazing up.

He looks imposing, almost threatening, if it wasn’t for that expression he has on his face – something behind the desire. You feel safe in his hands, safe to give yourself over, not just in the physical sense. He looks so capable, so easy to trust. His hand comes up to your face, tilting your head up, and you move easily for him, letting him mold you in any way he wants.

"That couple," you begin as you watch him watch you, take you in, "they knew exactly what we were doing."

His hand travels over your throat, and although he doesn’t squeeze, it’s exhilarating to think how well it fits into his palm. You shudder as he pops open the first button of your shirt – his shirt.

"You liked it," you add, voice breathy as the tips of his fingers ghost over your collarbone.

His eyes snap up to yours, and you give a small smile, almost teasing.

"Didn’t hear you complainin’," he answers, holding your eye contact. "Think I should mark you up, so that the reception lady knows, too."

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but you press your thighs together to relieve that terrible ache. Joel notices, and smirks almost imperceptibly, opening another button on your shirt. He’s taking his time, building tension by making you wait. He’s good at this, you think.

"But then she would stop calling you my Daddy," you breathe, trying hard not to close your eyes under Joel’s touch. Joel cocks an eyebrow, hands lingering on your shirt.

"Don’t tell me you enjoyed that, kid," he says, voice low, eyes intense. You flush, and wonder if he’ll kick you out now, if you have finally made things too weird to continue, but Joel keeps gazing at you, ever steady.

"Cat’s got your tongue?"

You swallow, and let out a shaky exhale. Joel pops open another button.

"That why you kept repeatin’ it to me? Cause it turned you on?"

He’s teasing you, dragging it out of you despite your embarrassment. He wants you to revel in just how debauched it is what the two of you are doing, and you get closer to giving in with every second. Joel’s fingers trace over the swell of your chest, finally visible now that he’s opened most of the buttons, and a weak sound escapes you.

"’S that it, baby?"

"Yes," you breathe finally, your cheeks burning. Joel’s answering smile seems oddly satisfied, as he opens the last button, lets the shirt glide over your shoulders and slump down on the bed in a little heap of linen. You swallow.

"Yes," he repeats, eyes trailing over your body. You wish he’d hurry up and get his hands on you, but with the way slick steadily leaks into your swimsuit, you can’t really complain. He sure knows how to play you like an instrument.

"Say it, then," he says curtly, a simple order, and you briefly close your eyes. It’s almost too good. His eyes are locked onto yours when you open them, expectant and blown wide with desire. He has stopped moving, and you realize he wants to hear you say it before he’ll go any further.

"I…I want to call you Daddy."

Your stomach curls up with need when you hear Joel groan, his resolve quickly crumbling, as he crashes his lips against yours again. He licks into your mouth with urgency, and it’s possessive in a way it wasn’t before, like he wants to claim your mouth. The thought makes you whimper, and Joel trails one hand over your side and down to the waistband of your swimsuit. You didn’t bother putting on your shorts again, just walked to the hotel in your bikini and shirt. His fingers slide under the thinnest part, right on your hip, and he lets it snap against your body. It doesn’t hurt, but the sound makes you groan.

His hands roam over your body relentlessly, squeezing, and tracing, and feeling the swell of your hips, the dip of your navel, your spine, your breasts. You almost don’t notice him undoing your swimsuit, until he slides off the top part, and runs one finger over your pebbled nipples. Your back arches and your hips twitch towards him, but he doesn’t give in yet, just teases the sensitive nubs while you whimper into his mouth.

Then he unties the little bows on your hips, and just like that you’re bare before him, your swimsuit coming undone with one tug of his fingers, while he’s still fully dressed. He’s disturbingly good at undressing you, something that used to be an obstacle to sex now a sensual part of it. You want to feel embarrassed at the amount of wetness between your legs, but when Joel’s fingers slide over your stomach and down to your throbbing core, he groans into your mouth.

"Jesus, you’re drippin’," he breathes against your lips, breaking away to watch his hand press circles into your clit. You try hard not to twitch under his gaze, his blazing eyes and skilled touch. Another whimper escapes you, as he keeps rubbing and watching your reaction, like he wants to take you in before continuing.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he gets you to the brink of an orgasm, but when your hips twitch towards him with little control, he stops, his eyes meeting yours again. You watch him lift his hand up to his mouth and suck his fingers clean, eyes not leaving yours. It’s the most erotic thing you have ever seen, the way he closes his eyes at the taste, and you wonder how you haven’t come yet.

"I’m gonna eat you out," he says, and it’s not a question. Immediately, insecurity floods your veins – you haven’t had someone do that before, and the men you have heard speak about it said they didn’t enjoy it.

"You don’t…I mean, you can just…", your voice trails off. Joel stops in his tracks, watching your face and cocking a brow.

"You ever been eaten out?"

"No," you say quietly, "and you don’t have to."

"I know I don’t have to," he says, and he sounds almost affronted, like he can’t believe you would think he didn’t enjoy it. "You want me to?"

"I just…know some people don’t enjoy it much," you mumble and look down. Joel’s hand comes up to your face, tipping your chin so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

"I want you to come on my tongue," he says, "and then again on my fingers."

You almost whine at that, embarrassment seeping out of you easily, and Joel traces his thumb over your lips. You let it slip into your mouth and suck, swirling your tongue around it.

"Alright? You let me take care of you," he mumbles, eyes trained on his finger between your lips.

"Okay," you say, when his thumb slips from your mouth, and then quietly add "Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, and a wave of heat rushes to your loins. It’s fucked, what you’re doing, completely fucked, but so good you think you might cry. You were scared thinking about it for too long would break the spell you two seem to be under, but the more you do, the more turned on you get. You have Joel Miller in front of you, calling you a good girl and about to make you orgasm multiple times.

"Lie back, baby," Joel says, and you do, sinking into the pillow that smells like him. Joel keeps watching you, and when he kneels down on the bed and gently spreads your legs with his hands, you think you might come from just that sight. But you hold on, because something about Joel wanting to eat you out, not even having taken off his own clothes, makes you curious. 

He kisses your ankle and trails his mouth upwards, over your inner thigh and your hipbone, until you almost tremble.

"Jesus, Joel," you mutter, hips twitching on the bed, trying to get closer to him without your permission. He looks up at you, pressing his thumb to your clit again, and you curse. It’s not exactly painful, but it’s so much, almost too much.

"That what you call me?"

He doesn’t let up, his touch so insistent, you wonder how he expects you to come up with a single word.

"S-sorry," you stutter, grinding against his hand. "Daddy."

It thrills you to use that word, to know it gets Joel off, enough that he chastises you for using his real name.

"That’s right," he answers, and finally he lets up, placing his big palm on your thigh instead. Then, he leans down, and presses his mouth to your clit, flicking his tongue over it. It’s unlike anything you have felt before, and you actively have to will your hips to stop twitching, afraid to somehow hurt Joel. But he notices, ever perceptive, and breaks away, his mouth and beard already covered in your wet.

"Get up," he says, and you feel your anxiety rise again, questions of what you could have done wrong. He waits, but raises his eyebrows.

"You wanna come, or not?"

So you sit up, confused, and watch as Joel lies down on his back.

"Straddle me," he orders, and you move towards his lap, but he shakes his head. "Over my face, come on, baby."

You stare at him. His expression softens when he sees your disbelief, and he gives you a smile.

"Told you I’d make you come on my tongue, didn’t I?"

"Yeah, but Joel, that’s…"

Your voice trails off. You aren’t sure what you want to say – dangerous? Really fucking hot? You’re still sitting by his side, when he strokes one hand over your thigh, a soothing touch.

"I don’t know where you get the idea from that I don’t enjoy eatin’ you out," he says, his voice almost stern, "but you get that right outta your pretty head. Now, will you do as I say and sit on your Daddy’s face?"

Your mind goes a little blank when Joel calls himself that, and you feel helpless to do anything but nod, give him what he really seems to want.

"Words, baby."

His hand trails up your thigh and over your stomach.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, looking directly into your eyes, his strong hands grabbing your waist and helping you move, hoisting you up until you’re hovering over his face.

"If I need to breathe, I’ll tap your thigh, alright?"

"Yes," you breathe, quickly adding "Daddy".

Joel’s hands force your hips downward and although the sensation of his mouth under you is exactly what your throbbing clit was begging for, you’re tentative and unsure of what to do – you don’t want to hurt Joel. 

"Move, baby, make yourself feel good," you hear Joel say, voice muffled by your body. You rock your hips forward once, and let out a groan – your clit bumps into his nose, and you feel him lick into your folds. His hands grab your hips, and he starts rocking you against his face, setting the rhythm for you, and and you feel yourself leak onto his face and into his mouth, as you start moving along with him. His beard feels scratchy in the most delicious way, as he lets you fuck yourself on his mouth, his thick tongue darting out.

"Fuck," you moan, "Fuck J-Joel, Daddy, fuck!"

It’s a lot to take in, Joel Miller’s head between your thighs, lapping at you like he’s starving, like he can’t imagine anything better than having you sit on his face. His strong nose keeps nudging your clit, again and again, and your movements slowly becomes more confident, though also less controlled.

Joel’s hands keep encouraging you, and you’re closer than before, right at the brink of coming all over his face, when Joel groans into your dripping cunt. The vibrations send you over the edge, and you practically sit down on his face with all your weight, but he doesn’t stop you, just lets you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm and chant a mixture of his name and daddy.

You get off of him with shaky legs, afraid you suffocated him, but he smiles up at you, looking absolutely wrecked – his hair is tousled, beard and face drenched in your juices, jaw a little slack. He reaches up to cup your face, and you go with his touch easily, laying down next to him. He rolls over until he’s half on top of you, watching your red, panting face, and slants his mouth over yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, can feel his soaked beard against you, and although it should be impossible after just having come, you throb at the feeling.

"So good for me," Joel mutters against your mouth, and trails his hand downward, over your stomach and to your overstimulated clit. You twitch under his touch, your body unsure if it wants to get closer to Joel, or get away from him, and he chuckles.

"She spent?", he asks, his tone a little amused, when you squirm under him. "That’s okay, baby, I’ll give her a break."

Instead, he slides his fingers through your folds, gathering wetness, and finally pushing into you. Your body opens up for Joel more than willingly, and although the stretch is tight, it’s not nearly as painful as you’re used to, you’re too wet and relaxed for that. 

Joel watches your face, your fluttering eyelids, as he pumps two thick fingers in and out of you in shallow thrusts. You whine – you know you’re being vocal, too loud for a hotel room, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when Joel curls his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Your hips twitch upwards, and Joel smirks.

"There we go, baby, there we go," he mumbles, moving his fingers relentlessly, and already you can feel another orgasm building. He doesn’t let up, just lets you whine under him, thrash around, because his touch is almost too much, too good, too intense, but just right. 

"Give me another one, baby, come on," he coaxes, and you think your ears start ringing when his palm starts grinding into your clit with every movement of his hand, the tips of his fingers pressing hard against your insides. "You just let Daddy make you feel real good."

It feels like bursting apart, when you come again, some tight coil snapping and Joel practically wrenching the orgasm out of you with his relentless hand and dirty words.

"Daddy," you groan, your hand coming up to your face, as you bite down on your knuckle. Joel watches you with bright eyes, lets you tremble until he can tell it’s too much, and only then does he slip his fingers out of you. 

You’re weak, exhausted from the intensity of your pleasure, and Joel chuckles when you sigh, watching your glassy eyes.

"Okay if I fuck you now?"

You think you’d let him kill you, if he really wanted to.

"Yes," you breathe, "please."

He finally – finally – takes off his shirt, arms flexing, chest sprinkled in dark hair, his belly protruding over his trunks. You wish you had a camera, or a chisel so you could scratch his glorious body into a block of stone. He’s hard in all the right places, and soft in the rest, and with a jolt you realize you’re allowed to touch now, no longer confined to watching him swim from your deckchair.

"Jesus," you breathe, sliding one hand over his biceps, as he unties the band of his swimming trunks. You know you’re hindering him, but you can’t bring yourself to stop your hand from trailing over his chest, and down to his belly.

"Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot," you mutter when he slides the trunks over his hips. Then your mind goes a little blank, because finally his bulge isn’t confined to his trunks anymore, finally he’s naked in front of you, kicking his clothes onto the floor.

He’s big, just like the rest of him. Long, and thick, and uncut, and dripping in precum, the dark hair at the base of his cock a harsh contrast to the reddish skin. Joel closes his fist around himself, pumps twice, until you tentatively put your hand over his. His cock twitches, and you feel a little overwhelmed with power. Joel let’s go and lets you do the work, your hand much smaller than his. He looks even more imposing like this, as you move your hand up and down his length.

"Wanna suck it," you say suddenly, and you’re not entirely sure where the words come from, but you know they’re true – you want to get him into your mouth, feel him use your face the way you used his. Joel groans.

"God, you’re killin’ me," he answers, eyebrows furrowed, voice wrecked. You squeeze your hand a little tighter, just to hear him make his little sounds again.

"I’ll come if you do, baby, and I’m not sure I have two rounds in me," he says, regret lacing his voice, but his words make you clench around nothing – his age turns you on more than you thought possible.

„And I need to fuck you tonight,," he adds, and wraps his big palm around your wrist, so you stop moving it over his throbbing cock.

"So fuck me," you breathe instead, eyes wide and glued to his. You watch his expression change, something primal take over, and suddenly he’s on top of you, his hips pressing into yours.

"Again," he orders, almost growling.

"Please fuck me, Daddy," you whisper, your stomach clenching and unclenching in anticipation. Joel looks like he might come from just your words, but after a moment of collecting himself, he kisses you briefly.

"Alright, pretty girl, I’ll give it to you real good," he promises, and aligns his cock with your entrance. "You’re so goddamn fuckin’ wet, I can slide right in."

And he does, pushing his hips into yours. You feel the stretch of the thick tip, the widest point almost bordering on painful, and you bite your lip. Joel slides into you slowly, breathing into your mouth and making you feel everything. Then the tip is sheathed inside of you and Joel groans quietly.

"Grippin’ me so tight," he mutters, consistently pushing on, "halfway there, babygirl."

Your pussy flutters around him, clenches and unclenches, as he keeps going, and going. You feel full, and still Joel pushes on, until his hips are fully pressed into yours, and you feel him deeper inside of you than you have felt anything before.

"Breathe, baby," he reminds you, and you let out a shaky breath you didn’t notice you were holding. "Attagirl."

When he pulls out of you again, you make a raspy whining sound, your stomach clenching at the intense drag. Joel’s hands start trailing over your body, yours are gripping his shoulders.

"Look so pretty, all stretched out on my cock," Joel praises you, and God, the mouth on this man. If you weren’t so exhausted from the first two times he made you come, you would be trembling. You groan weakly, as he pushes back in, and starts moving at a quicker pace, setting a rhythm he likes. He punches into you with precision, angling his hips just right, and then he’s nudging against that spot inside of you.

"Ah…Daddy!"

"I’ve got you, sweet girl," he groans, moving both your wrists over your head, and pinning them down with one big hand – he easily engulfs you. You tug against him, testing his grip, and your hips twitch upward when you realize you can’t get out. He’s fully in control now, his cock nudging into you insistently, and you can only take it. You’ve never felt so cared for, as now, getting fucked raw by Joel Miller.

He doesn’t kiss you, but he keeps staring into your eyes, and it feels weirdly intimate. His movements become faster, more forceful, his belly nudging your body with every thrust. You whine, your body unable to do anything except for letting another orgasm build, one you didn’t think yourself capable of. The corners of Joel’s mouth twitch, when he feels you clench, and he fucks you harder.

"Daddy," you yelp at one particularly deep thrust, but Joel doesn’t let up – you don’t want him to. "Wanna come, p-please."

"You wait for my permission," Joel answers. Your belly feels like it’s on fire, tightly coiled with the need to just let go, but Joel wants you to wait, so you will wait. Anything, you think, anything. Joel’s jaw is slack, his brows furrowed, his free hand rough on your skin, but not unkind. You clench around him, and try your best to hold off coming, your eyes falling close.

"Eyes on me, kid," Joel orders, and despite your concentration, your eyes snap open. "Fuck, that’s it, my good girl."

My girl.

Joel fucks you like it, like you’re his. It’s possessive from beginning to end – the way he looked at you when you first wore his shirt, how he wouldn’t back away from you in the elevator. He plays your body like it’s his, dragging the pleasure out of you, and it makes your head spin. You can feel his thrusts go sloppy, can feel his restraint cracking, and your eyelids flutter a little.

"You want it inside, babygirl?"

You didn’t talk about that. You know you should say no. The head of his cock nudges your insides, and Joel’s free hand presses down on your stomach, feeling himself inside of you from the outside with every thrust.

"Yes," you breathe, "yes, please, Daddy, I w-want it."

Suddenly Joel is the one who has to close his eyes, as he keeps fucking into you.

"Fuck, you come for me first, baby," he groans, sliding his hand down to rub at your overstimulated clit. It’s too much, right on the brink of painful, and you thrash under him.

"I c-c-can’t Daddy, it’s…", your voice trails off, lost in the impact of his thrusts, but Joel keeps rubbing tight circles.

"Yeah, you can, baby, you know why?"

You don’t have it in you to answer, so you just stare into Joel’s eyes. You feel something wet on your cheek, and realize you must be crying, crying from how good you feel, how full.

"Cause I said so."

Your pussy throbs, clenches, and Joel moves his finger over your clit faster.

"Come for me, baby, I’ve got you," Joel drawls, and finally you do, your vision going white, your muscles going slack as you let Joel drag his cock in and out of you, the pleasure white-hot.

"Fuck, good girl, that’s my good girl," Joel groans, thrusting into you faster, until he presses into you harder than ever before, and you feel his thick cock twitch and throb against your cervix. Something hot bursts into you, and Joel keeps fucking into you for a couple more seconds, his eyes falling closed. Then, pulls out of you, your pussy fluttering, and he falls down next to you on the bed. You feel like jelly – you couldn’t move if you tried. Joel’s cum leaks out of you slowly, an odd, but pleasant sensation, and you sort of wish he would push it back into you.

After a couple of seconds, Joel pulls you against him, your face coming to rest against his broad chest, and he presses a kiss to your hair. You inhale his scent, and your spent muscles relax further, if possible.

"You did so good," Joel mutters, "so perfect."

His hands trail up your side and arms softly, a soothing contrast to the insistent way he fucked you. Your mind is pleasantly quiet, all caught up in his voice, his scent, his touch, his spent leaking out of you.

"Thank you," you sigh, and Joel chuckles. You smile weakly.

"Wanna get cleaned up, sweet girl?"

"No," you manage, "just wanna sleep."

Joel huffs a laugh, and tucks you more tightly against him.

"I’ll wake you before dinner."

***

When he does, the sun is already sinking. He trails kisses up and down your face – the softest way you’ve ever been dragged back to reality and out of a dream, and the first time you think reality is more fantastic than anything your sleeping brain could come up with.

"Mornin’, sleepyhead," Joel mumbles, catching your mouth in a kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly. You sigh into his mouth, when he pulls away.

"We should take a shower, baby, and you need a pill."

You open your eyes, a little confused.

"A pill?"

Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, I’m not opposed to children, but I think your Dad might be," he says, and you snort weakly. Right, you think, the morning after pill.

"I’ve got an IUD, Joel, don’t worry."

He presses a kiss to your collarbone.

"Back to Joel, are we?"

You blush, and he laughs. It’s blissful, and a little unreal – Joel Miller, teasing you about the debauched, perfect sex you had not two hours ago.

"You prefer Daddy?"

"It’s…got a ring to it."

You can hear the smirk, even though your eyes are closed again, and you’re stretching your tired limbs. You yawn.

"How about room service?", you ask, Joel’s hand softly stroking the hair out of your face.

"Hmm," he mumbles, trailing one hand over your stomach, "or… we take a nice shower, you let me clean you, we have dinner with you lookin’ all fucked out, and everyone downstairs will know what we’ve been up to."

Your eyes open, and although you’re entirely, completely spent, your thighs clench together. Joel grins.

It’s quite the picture – Joel, with an arm around your shoulder ordering two cocktails, the redness on your skin from where he sucked too harshly or his beard burned you. You can see it in front of you, the same waiter as yesterday bringing your food, except this time, Joel lets you use his fork to try his meal, and instead of hurrying down to the beach afterwards, he’ll kiss you slow and long, just because he can, in front of every other guest in this hotel.

„Yeah…or that."

[fairestwriting]

Hey hey! First off, I love your writing. It’s really fun and silly and skrunkly, which is also why I wanted to send in a request!

I wanted to ask for an Idia x reader comfort type thing? For context, a game I love is currently doing a rerun banner for a costume I really really want. I saved for a year to try and get it because I failed last time and, low and behold, I didn’t get it now either

I do still have time before the banner’s over but it’s just kinda disheartening after I tried to save for so long and still didn’t get the costume (especially cause I’m f2p)

The actually scenario doesn’t have to be this specific but I feel like, if anyone were to understand my plight, it would be Idia

Hope you’re doing well :))

thank you sm :'3 i realized only when i was done with this that it shouldve been a scenario/fic type post... that ones gonna be in the works for tomorrow cause i was doing another hc/scenario hybrid before i got to this one oops .

also i understand you so deeply im also f2p in everything i play and not getting your special little guy or the costume for them is. SO much more painful than it has the right to be what the hell 😭

Idia Shroud

He's definitely been in your shoes, maybe even recently. He does spend on his favorite gachas every now and then, but with the amount of games he plays and the speed at which banners come out, he can't just sink all his money into gacha currency. Besides gacha, there's also new game releases and DLCs after all! And it feels better if you actually earn your win, too.

It goes without saying that he's going to be hyping you up before your pulls, whether through messages or live, and that you'll be exchanging screenshots with each other too, so he knew how much you were looking forward for this one banner. He's made it known he's your biggest supporter.

Even if it's not something he also plays, he feels the loss when you're all out of pulls, and the character you were hoping for never comes. He's not really the best at comfort in general, that applies both over text and in person, but you know he understands the feeling.

He reaches for you a little awkwardly, depending on what it looks like you want to do about it. What would it be better to offer? Encouragement for reruns, or ingame currency for a few more pulls? He wonders nervously while he tries to pick whatever looks better for your case. If he happens to have the character that you wanted he'll actually apologize and definitely offer a few extra pulls.

Honestly, he finds that it feels even more sad than the times he fumbled his pulls. He'll scour the internet for any talk of reruns and send it to you within the hour, and if he finds none, he's always here to commiserate.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!